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v a- / i -O C t << '-‘- '>'■ %XaA* 


®f)e g>tubent$’ literal CranSlationiS 


The 

WORKS of HORACE 


Smart’s Literal English Prose Translation 
Revised by 
T. A. BUCKLEY 


With A Brief Introduction By 

A. B. STONE 



Translation Publishing Company, inc. 

31 West 15th Street New York City 





Copyright, 1920 

BY 

Translation Publishing Company, inc. 



OCT 12 1920 




©CU601337 

v. I 




INTRODUCTION 


Quintus Horatius Flaceus was born December eighth, 
65 B. C., at Venusium, on the borders of Apulia, near 
Lucania. His father, although a freedman, had acquired 
competent means through thrift in his profession as 
collector of moneys for goods sold at public auction, 
and his son received the best education obtainable in his 
time, no expense being spared to equip him with the 
highest mental culture. To his father's influence we may 
attribute the poet's marked characteristics of modera¬ 
tion,. temperance and self-control; and to his father's 
training was also due Horace's habit of observing men 
and manners. The poet's shrewd and searching com¬ 
ments on life carry a vitality which has stirred many 
generations of men and is unimpaired after the passing 
of the years. The life-story of Horace has endeared 
itself to all men because it is an intimate portrayal of 
private acts and feelings, rather than a commentary on 
the stirring political relations and embarrassments of 
his time, although the poet was in close touch with those 
most actively engaged in public affairs. Sympathy with, 
and understanding of, common human attributes are 
the basis of the undying interest in the writings of 
Horace. 

In his twentieth year Horace went to Greece to finish 
his studies at Athens. During the next two years he 
heard lectures by the leaders of the various philosophic 
schools, without being seriously attracted by any one 
system. He never gave himself up to any system of 
ethics, although Epicureanism attracted him at first; 
later he turned to the teachings of the Stoics. He 
avoided extremes, his good sense teaching him to steer 
a middle course in all matters of conduct. Also it is 
probable that, during his stay in Athens, Horace con- 

iii 


X . 



IV 


INTRODUCTION 


tinued his study of the Greek poets, notably Archilochus 
and the early lyricists, as they afterwards became his 
chief models. He was incited thereby to devote himself 
to Greek verse, but wisely forsook the practice later; 
although to his early exercises in Greek is due his in¬ 
comparable skill in the handling of his own language. 

In the autumn of 44 B. C. Brutus came to Athens, 
where the people received him with enthusiasm as a 
liberator, Horace, too, being attracted to his cause. By 
this time Horace had acquired some fame as a skilful 
versifier; and this doubtless induced Brutus, who had a 
love of literature, to give him the office of military 
tribune in the conspirators’ army. Of Horace’s military 
service we know little; but it is certain that he shared 
in the defeat at Philippi in 42 B. C., at this time being 
the age of twenty-three. Thus was he taught the mean¬ 
ing of the vicissitudes of fortune, while at the same time 
he seems to have been cured of any political or social 
ambitions he may have been fostering. He turned to 
letters, an observer of men and of afiairs, rather than 
an active participant in life. At first he despaired of 
the state; but later gradually accepted the new order of 
things. After the battle of Actium had freed Rome 
from external dangers, Horace enthusiastically pro¬ 
claimed the permanence of the Empire and celebrated 
the beneficence of the rule of Augustus. 

When Horace was allowed to return to Italy by the 
general amnesty granted by Octavian after the battle of 
Philippi, he was thrown upon his own resources, as his 
father had evidently died. He found Venusia, where the 
estate was situated, included in the districts assigned to 
the veterans of the victorious army. He secured a posi¬ 
tion as clerk to the quaestors, and in his leisure turned 
to writing Latin verses. We can understand that 
wordly misfortune tended to develop the poetical genius 
of Horace, necessity furnishing a powerful motive for the 
exercise of talents which were ripening under the ad¬ 
vantages afforded by the times. His poems opening up 
personal contacts with the great on occasions, Horace at¬ 
tracted the favorable notice of Maecenas. What at first 
was a distant and patronizing courtesy became admira¬ 
tion on the part of the patron, and a friendship of the 


INTRODUCTION 


v 


firmest kind sprang up. Horace accompanied Maecenas 
upon the most confidential missions. About the year 37 
B. C., he journeyed with him to Brundusium, where nego¬ 
tiations for a reconciliation between Antony and Au¬ 
gustus took place. To this trip we are indebted for the 
entertaining picture of the domestic habits of the 
wealthier classes at Rome during the Augustan age, 
contained in the fifth Satire of the first Book. The favor 
of Maecenas introduced Horace to the best society of 
his time; and Maecenas, on his part, is plainly shown to 
have exacted no return for his favor which the poet 
could not easily and properly repay. Horace main¬ 
tained his independence, many passages of his writings 
making it clear that he would readily resign all the 
benefits conferred upon him rather than lose his freedom 
in the slightest degree. Maecenas was a generous friend. 
He presented the poet with his villa at Tibur, and 
through intercession with Augustus, obtained for him a 
grant of land in the Sabine district. The emperor 
offered Horace the position of private secretary to him¬ 
self, but Horace declined the honor, as this would have 
involved absences from the society of Maecenas. Au¬ 
gustus approved of the poet’s choice, apparently, and 
even gave him personal encouragement to further literary 
exertions. 

Horace lived a life of Epicurean enjoyment, alter¬ 
nating between his villa on the Esquiline hill at Rome, 
and the quieter and more congenial surroundings at * ‘ the 
Sabine Farm.” He was not wholly untouched by the 
prevailing vices, yielding to them through the careless¬ 
ness of the wit rather than indulging as a sensualist. 
His home life was simple and unostentatious, although he 
enjoyed when in society the luxuries of his day. The 
poet was a kind and indulgent master, and a faithful 
friend. Personally he was ‘ ‘ short in stature, prematurely 
.gray, fond of the sun, quick to take offense, but readily 
appeased.” In later years, his health was poor. He 
remained a bachelor and was never deeply moved by 
love, the flames of his verse existing in fancy only, save 
for Cinara, who was a creature of flesh and blood. 

Horace never gained among his contemporaries the 
fame enjoyed by Virgil, but he lived to see himself 


VI 


INTRODUCTION 


pointed out by passersby as the lyric poet of Rome. His 
poems were early used in schools, certainly before Quin¬ 
tilian’s day; in Juvenal’s time, busts of Virgil and 
Horace adorned schoolrooms; so that for nearly nine¬ 
teen centuries the works of Horace have contributed to 
liberal education in western Europe. In fact, no other 
Roman poet but Virgil influenced posterity to any like 
degree. 

The poet’s literary career may be divided into three 
periods of about ten years each: first, from his return 
to Rome to 29 B. C., the period during which he pub¬ 
lished his two books of Satires and the collection of 
Epodes; second, 29-19 B. C., the period of his maturity, 
in which his genius reached its height, and when he pub¬ 
lished the first three books of Odes (23 B. C.) and the 
first book of the Epistles (20 B. C.). Of his personal 
history during the last decennium (19-8 B. C.) we know 
but little. The poet produced less than in the two 
previous periods, publishing only the Carmen Sjeculare 
(17 B. C.), the fourth book of Odes (after 13 B. C.), 
and the two literary epistles, which, with the Ars 
Poetica, form a second book or Epistles. 

Horace died suddenly in the year 8 B. C., at Rome. 
His friend and patron Maecenas, died about the same 
time. Both were buried in tombs on the Esquiline Hill. 

Horace’s popularity as a writer is perhaps unexcelled. 
He has always been held in regard by men of widely 
varying pursuits. His wisdom, his moderation and good 
humored satire, set forth with a perfect technique, are 
as human to-day as they were in the Roman era. 


THE ODES OF HOEACE 


BOOK ONE 


ODE I. 

To Mcecenas. 

Maecenas, descended from royal ancestors, O both my 
protection and my darling honor! There are those whom 
it delights to have collected Olympic dust in the chariot 
race; and [whom] the goal nicely avoided by the glow¬ 
ing wheels, and the noble palm, exalts, lords of the earth, 
to the gods. 

This man, if a crowd of the capricious Quirites strived 
to raise him to the highest dignities; another, if he has 
stored up in his own granary whatsoever is swept from 
the Libyan thrashing-floors: him who delights to cut 
with the hoe his patrimonial fields, you could never 
tempt, for all the wealth of Attalus, [to become] a 
timorous sailor and cross the Myrtoan sea in a Cyprian 
bark. The merchant, dreading the south-west wind con¬ 
tending with the Icarian waves, commends tranquillity 
and the rural retirement of his village; but soon after, 
incapable of being taught to bear poverty, he refits 
his shattered vessel. There is another, who despises not 
cups of old Massic, taking a part from the entire day, 
one while stretched under the green arbute, another at 
the placid head of some sacred stream. 

The camp, and the sound of the trumpet mingled with 
that of the clarion, and wars detested by mothers, re¬ 
joice many. 



2 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


The huntsman, unmindful of his tender spouse, remains 
in the cold air, whether a hart is held in view by his 
faithful hounds, or a Marsian boar has broken the fine- 
wrought toils. 

Ivy, the reward of learned brows, equals me with the 
gods above: the cool grove, and the light dances of nymphs 
and satyrs, distinguish me from the crowd ; if neither Eu¬ 
terpe withholds her pipe, nor Polyhymnia disdains to tune 
the Lesbian lyre. But, if you rank me among the lyric 
poets, I shall tower to the stars with my exalted head. 


ODE II. 

To Augustus Cwsar. 

Enough of snow and dreadful hail has the Sire now 
sent upon the earth, and having hurled [his thunderbolts] 
with his red right hand against the secred towers, he has 
terrified the city: he has terrified the nations, lest the 
grievous age of Pyrrha, complaining of prodigies till then 
unheard of, should return, when Proteus drove all his 
[marine] herd to visit the lofty mountains; and the fishy 
race were entangled in the elm top, which before was the 
frequented seat of doves; and the timorous deer swam in 
the overwhelming flood. We have seen the yellow Tiber, 
with his waves forced back with violence from the Tus¬ 
can shore, proceed to demolish the monuments of king 
[Numa], and the temples of Vesta; while he vaunts him¬ 
self the avenger of the too disconsolate Ilia, and the 
uxorious river, leaving his channel, overflows his left 
bank, notwithstanding the disapprobation of Jupiter. 

Our youth, less numerous by the vices of their fathers, 
shall hear of the citizens having whetted that sword 
[against themselves], with which it had been better that 
the formidable Persians had fallen; they shall hear of 
[actual] engagements.^Vhom of the gods shall the people 
invoke to the affairs of the sinking empire? With what 
prayer shall the sacred virgins importune Vesta, who is 
now inattentive to their hymns? To whom shall Jupiter 
assign the task of expiating our wickedness? Do thou at 
length, prophetic Apollo, (we pray thee!) come, veiling 


ODE III. 


ODES OF HORACE 


3 


thy radiant shoulders with a cloud: or thou, if it be more 
agreeable to thee, smiling Venus, about whom hover the 
gods of mirth and love; or thou, if thou regard thy 
neglected race and descendants, our founder Mars, whom 
clamor and polished helmets, and the terrible aspect of 
the Moorish infantry against their bloody enemy, de¬ 
light, satiated at length with thy sport, alas! of too 
long continuance: or if thou, the winged son of gentle 
Maia, by changing thy figure, personate a youth upon 
earth, submitting to be called the avenger of Caesar; 
late mayest thou return to the skies, and long mayest 
thou joyously be present to the Roman people; nor may 
an untimely blast transport thee from us, offended at 
our crimes. Here mayest thou rather delight in mag¬ 
nificent triumphs, and to be called father and prince: 
nor suffer the Parthians with impunity to make incur¬ 
sions, you, 0 Caesar, being our general. 


ODE III. 

To the Ship, in Which Virgil Was About to Sail to 
Athens. 

So may the goddess who rules over Cyprus; so may 
the bright stars, the brothers of Helen; and so may the 
father of the winds, confining all except Iapyx, direct 
thee, O ship, who art intrusted with Virgil; my prayer is, 
that thou mayest land him safe on the Athenian shore, 
and preserve the half of my soul. Surely oak and three¬ 
fold brass surrounded his heart who first trusted a frail 
vessel to the merciless ocean, nor was afraid of the im¬ 
petuous Africus contending with the northern storms, nor 
of the mournful Hyades, nor of the rage of Notus, than 
whom there is not a more absolute controller of the 
Adriatic, either to raise or assuage its waves at pleasure. 
What path of death did he fear, who beheld unmoved 
the rolling monsters of the deep; who beheld unmoved 
the. tempestuous swelling of the sea, and the Aero- 
ceraunians—ill-famed rocks. 

In vain has God in his wisdom divided the countries 
of the earth by separating ocean, if nevertheless pro- 


4 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


fane ships bound over waters not to be violated. The 
race of man presumptuous enough to endure every thing, 
rushes on through forbidden wickedness. 

The presumptuous son of Iapetus, by an impious fraud, 
brought down fire into the world. After fire was stolen 
from the celestial mansions, consumption and a new 
train of fevers settled upon the earth, and the slow 
approaching necessity of death, which, till now, was re¬ 
mote, accelerated its pace. Daedalus essayed the empty 
air with wings not permitted to man. The labor of 
Hercules broke through Acheron. There is nothing too 
arduous for mortals to attempt. We aim at heaven 
itself in our folly; neither do we suffer, by our wicked¬ 
ness, Jupiter to lay aside his revengeful thunderbolts. 


ODE IV. 

To Sextius 

Severe winter is melted away beneath the agreeable 
change of spring and the western breeze; and engines 
haul down the dry ships. And neither does the cattle 
any longer delight in the stalls, nor the plowman in the 
fireside; nor are the meadows whitened by hoary frosts. 
Now Cytherean Venus leads off the dance by moon¬ 
light; and the comely Graces, in conjunction with the 
Nymphs, shake the ground with alternate feet; while 
glowing Vulcan kindles the laborious forges of the 
Cyclops. Now it is fitting to encircle the shining head 
either with verdant myrtle, or with such flowers as the 
relaxed earth produces. Now likewise it is fitting to 
sacrifice to Faunus in the shady groves, whether he 
demand a lamb, or be more pleased with a kid. Pale 
death knocks at the cottages of the poor, and the palaces 
of kings, with an impartial foot. O happy Sextius! the 
short sum total of life forbids us to form remote ex¬ 
pectations. Presently shall darkness, and the unreal 
ghosts, and the shadowy mansion of Pluto oppress you; 
where, when you shall have once arrived, you shall neither 
decide the dominion of the bottle by dice, nor shall you 
admire the tender Lycidas, with whom now all the youth 


ODE V. VI. 


ODES OF HORACE 


5 


is inflamed, and for whom ere long the maidens will 
grow warm. 


ODE V. 

To Pyrrha. 

What dainty youth, bedewed with liquid perfumes, 
caresses you, Pyrrha, beneath the pleasant grot, amid 
a profusion of roses? For whom do you bind your 
golden hair, plain in your neatness? Alas! how often 
shall he deplore your perfidy, and the altered gods; and 
through inexperience be amazed at the seas, rough with 
blackening storms, who now credulous enjoys you all 
precious, and, ignorant of the faithless gale, hopes you 
will be always disengaged, always amiable! Wretched 
are those, to whom thou untried seemest fair? The 
sacred wall [of Neptune’s temple] demonstrates, by a 
votive tablet that I have consecrated my dropping gar¬ 
ments to the powerful god of the sea. 


ODE VI. 

To Agrippa. 

You shall be described by Yarius, a bird of Maeonian 
verse, as brave, and a subduer of your enemies, what¬ 
ever achievements your fierce soldiery shall have accom¬ 
plished, under your command; either on ship-board or 
on horseback. We, humble writers, O Agrippa, neither 
undertake these high subjects, nor the destructive wrath 
of inexorable Achilles, nor the voyages of the crafty 
Ulysses, nor the cruel house of Pelops: while diffi¬ 
dence, and the Muse who presides over the peaceful 
lyre, forbid me to diminish the praise of illustrious 
Caesar, and yours, through defect of genius. Who with 
sufficient dignity will describe Mars covered with adaman¬ 
tine coat of mail, or Meriones swarthy with Trojan dust, 
or the son of Tydeus by the favor of Pallas a match 
for the gods? We ? whether free, or ourselves enamored 


6 


ODES OF HORACE 


book i. 


of aught, light as our wont, sing of banquets,- we, of 
the battles of maids desperate against young fellows— 
with pared nails. 


ODE VII. 

To Munatius Plancus. 

Other poets shall celebrate the famous Rhodes, or 
Mitylene, or Ephesus, or the walls of Corinth, situated 
between two seas, or Thebes, illustrious by Bacchus, or 
Delphi by Apollo, or the Thessalian Tempe. There are 
some, whose one task it is to chant in endless verse the 
city of spotless Pallas, and to prefer the olive culled 
from every side, to every other leaf. Many a one, in 
honor of Juno, celebrates Argos, productive of steeds, 
and rich Mycenae. Neither patient Lacedaemon so much 
struck me, nor so much did the plain of fertile Larissa, 
as the house of resounding Albunea, and the precipitately 
rapid Anio, and the Tiburnian groves, and the orchards 
watered by ductile rivulets. As the clear south-wind 
often clears away the clouds from a lowering sky, nor 
teems with perpetual showers; so do you, O Plancus, 
wisely remember to put an end to grief and the toils of 
life by mellow wine; whether the camp, refulgent with 
banners, possess you, or the dense shade of your own 
Tibur shall detain you. When Teucer fled from Salamis 
and his father, he is reported, notwithstanding, to have 
bound his temples, bathed in wine, with a poplar crown, 
thus accosting his anxious friends: “ O associates and 

companions, we will go wherever fortune, more pro¬ 
pitious than a father, shall carry us. Nothing is to be 
despaired of under Teucer’s conduct, and the auspices 
of Teucer: for the infallible Apollo has promised, that 
a Salamis in a new land shall render the name 
equivocal. O gallant heroes, and often my fellow- 
sufferers in greater hardships than these, now drive away 
your cares with wine: to-morrow we will re-visit the vast 
ocean. ’* 


ODE VIII. IX. 


ODES OF HORACE 


7 


ODE VIII. 

To Lydia. 

Lydia, I conjure thee by all the powers above, to tell 
me why you are so intent to ruin Sybaris by inspiring 
him with love? Why hates he the sunny plain, though 
inured to bear the dust and heat? Why does he neither, 
in military accouterments, appear mounted among his 
equals; nor manage the Gallic steed with bitted reins? 
Why fears he to touch the yellow Tiber? Why shuns he 
the oil of the ring more cautiously than viper’s blood? 
Why neither does he, who has often acquired reputa¬ 
tion by the quoit, often by the javelin having cleared 
the mark, any longer appear with arms all black-and- 
blue by martial exercises? Why is he concealed, as they 
say the son of the sea-goddess Thetis was, just before 
the mournful funerals of Troy; lest a manly habit 
should hurry him to slaughter, and the Lycian troops? 


ODE IX. 

To Tlialiarchus. 

You see how Soracte stands white with deep snow, 
nor can the laboring woods any longer support the 
weight, and the rivers stagnate with the sharpness of 
the frost. Dissolve the cold, liberally piling up billets 
on the hearth; and bring out, O Thaliarchus, the more 
generous wine, four years old, from the Sabine jar. 
Leave the rest to the gods, who having once laid the 
winds warring with the fervid ocean, neither the cypresses 
nor the aged ashes are moved. Avoid inquiring what 
may happen to-morrow; and whatever day fortune shall 
bestow on you score it up for gain; nor disdain, being 
a young fellow, pleasant loves, nor dances, as long as 
ill natured hoariness keeps off from your blooming age. 
Now let both the Campus Martius and the public walks, 
and soft whispers at the approach of evening be repeated 
at the appointed hour: now, too, the delightful laugh, 


8 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK L 


the betrayer of the lurking damsel from some secret 
corner, and the token ravished from her arms or fingers, 
pretendingly tenacious of it. 


ODE X. 

To Mercury. 

Mercury, eloquent grandson of Atlas, thou who artful 
didst from the savage manners of the early race of men 
by oratory, and the institution of the graceful-Palaestra: 
I will celebrate thee, messenger of Jupiter and the 
other gods, and parent of the curved lyre; ingenious to 
coneeal whatever thou hast a mind to, in jocose theft. 
While Apollo, with angry voice, threatened you, then 
but a boy, unless you would restore the oxen, previously 
driven away by your fraud, he laughed, [when he found 
himself] deprived of his quiver [also]. Moreover, the 
wealthy Priam too, on his departure from Ilium, under 
your guidance deceived the proud sons of Atreus, and 
the Thessalian watch-lights, and the camp inveterate 
against Troy. You settle the souls of good men in 
blissful regions, and drive together the airy crowd with 
your golden rod, acceptable both to the supernal and 
infernal gods. 


ODE XI. 

To Leuconoe. 

Inquire not, Leuconoe (it is not fitting you should 
know), how long a term of life the gods have granted 
to you or to me: neither consult the Chaldean calcula¬ 
tions. How much better is it to bear with patience 
whatever shall happen! Whether Jupiter have granted 
us more winters, or [this as] the last, which now breaks 
the Etrurian waves against the opposing rocks. Be 
wise; rack off your wines, and abridge your hopes 
[in proportion] to the shortness of your life. While 
we are conversing, envious age has been flying; seize 


ODE XII. 


ODES OF HORACE 


9 


the present day, not giving the least credit to the 
succeeding one. 


ODE XII. 

To Augustus. 

What man, what hero, O Clio, do you undertake to 
celebrate on the harp, or the shrill pipe? What god? 
Whose name shall the sportive echo resound, either in 
the shady borders of Helicon, or on the top of Pindus, 
or on cold Haemus? Whence the woods followed promis¬ 
cuously the tuneful Orpheus, who by his maternal art 
retarded the rapid courses of rivers, and the fleet winds; 
and was so sweetly persuasive, that he drew along the 
listening oaks with his harmonious strings. But what 
can I sing prior to the usual praises of the Sire, who 
governs the affairs of men and gods; who [governs] 
the sea, the earth, and the whole world with the vicis¬ 
situdes of seasons? Whence nothing is produced greater 
than him; nothing springs either like him, or even in a 
second degree to him: nevertheless, Pallas has acquired 
these honors, which are next after him. 

Neither will I pass thee by in silence, O Bacchus, 
bold in combat; nor thee, O Virgin, who art an enemy 
to the savage beasts; nor thee, O Phoebus, formidable 
for thy unerring dart. 

I will sing also of Hercules, and the sons of Leda, 
the one illustrious for his achievements on horseback, 
the other on foot; whose clear-shining constellation as 
soon as it has shone forth to the sailors, the troubled 
surge falls down from the rocks, the winds cease, the 
clouds vanish, and the threatening waves subside in 
the sea—because it was their will. After these, I am 
in doubt whom I shall first commemorate, whether 
Romulus, or the peaceful reign of Numa, or the splendid 
ensigns of Tarquinius, or the glorious death of Cato. 
I will celebrate, out of gratitude, with the choicest 
verses, Regulus, and the Scauri, and Paulus, prodigal 
of his mighty soul, when Carthage conquered, and 
Fabricius. 


10 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


Severe poverty, and an hereditary farm, with a dwell¬ 
ing suited to it, formed this hero useful in war; as it 
did also Curius with his rough locks, and Camillus. The 
fame of Marcellus increases, as a tree does in the in¬ 
sensible progress of time. But the Julian constellation 
shines amid them all, as the moon among the smaller 
stars. O thou son of Saturn, author and preserver of 
the human race, the protection of Caesar is committed to 
thy charge by the Fates: thou shalt reign supreme, with 
Caesar for thy second. Whether he shall subdue with 
a just victory the Parthians making inroads upon Italy, 
or shall render subject the Seres and Indians on the 
Eastern coasts; he shall rule the wide world with equity, 
in subordination to thee. Thou shalt shake Olympus 
with thy tremendous car; thou shalt hurl thy hostile 
thunderbolts against the polluted groves. 


ODE XIII. 

To Lydia. 

O Lydia, when you commend Telephus’ rosy neck, 
and the waxen arms of Telephus, alas! my inflamed 
liver swells with bile difficult to be repressed. Then 
neither is my mind firm, nor does my color maintain 
a certain situation: and the involuntary tears glide 
down my cheek, proving with what lingering flames I 
am inwardly consumed. I am on fire, whether quarrels 
rendered immoderate by wine have stained your fair 
shoulders; or whether the youth, in his fury, has im¬ 
pressed with his teeth a memorial on your lips. If 
you will give due attention to my advice, never expect 
that he will be constant, who inhumanly wounds those 
sweet kisses, which Venus has imbued with the fifth part 
of all her nectar. O thrice and more than thrice happy 
those, whom an indissoluble connection binds together; 
and whose love, undivided by impious complainings, does 
not separate them sooner than the last day! 


ODE XIV. XV. 


ODES OF HORACE 


11 


ODE XIV. 

To the Roman State. 

O ship, new waves will bear you back again to sea. 
O what are you doing? Bravely seize the port. Do 
you not perceive, that your sides are destitute of oars, 
and your mast wounded by the violent south wind, and 
your main-yards groan, and your keel can scarcely sup¬ 
port the impetuosity of the waves without the help 
of cordage? You have not entire sails; nor gods, whom 
you may again invoke, pressed with distress: notwith¬ 
standing you are made of the pines of Pontus, and as 
the daughter of an illustrious wood, boast your race, 
and a fame now of no service to you. The timorous 
sailor has no dependence on a painted stern. Look to 
yourself, unless you are destined to be the sport of the 
winds. O thou, so lately my trouble and fatigue, but 
now an object of tenderness and solicitude, mayest thou 
escape those dangerous seas which flow among the 
shining Cyclades. 


ODE XV. 

To Paris. 

When the perfidious shepherd (Paris) carried off by 
sea in Trojan ships his hostess Helen, Nereus suppressed 
the swift winds in an unpleasant calm, that he might 
sing the dire fates. “With unlucky omen art thou 
conveying home her, whom Greece with a numerous army 
shall demand back again, having entered into a con¬ 
federacy to dissolve your nuptials, and the ancient 
kingdom of Priam. Alas! what sweat to horses, what 
to men, is just at hand! What a destruction art thou 
preparing for the Trojan nation! Even now Pallas is 
fitting her helmet, and her shield, and her chariot, and 
her fury. In vain, looking fierce through the patronage 
of Venus, will you comb your hair, and run divisions 
upon the effeminate lyre with songs pleasing to women. 


12 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


In vain will you escape the spears that disturb the 
nuptial bed, and the point of the Cretan dart, and the 
din [of battle], and Ajax swift in the pursuit. Never¬ 
theless, alas! the time will come, though late, when 
thou shalt defile thine adulterous hairs in the dust. Dost 
thou not see the son of Laertes, fatal to thy nation, 
and Pylian Nestor, Salaminian Teucer, and Sthenelus 
skilled in fight (or if there be occasion to manage horses, 
no tardy charioteer), pursue thee with intrepidity? 
Meriones also shalt thou experience. Behold! the gal¬ 
lant son of Tydeus, a better man than his father, glows 
to find you out: him, as a stag flies a wolf, which he 
has seen on the opposite side of the vale, unmindful 
of his pasture, shall you, effeminate, fly, grievously 
panting:—not such the promises you made your mistress. 
The fleet of the enraged Achilles shall defer for i* 
time that day, which is to be fatal to Troy and the 
Trojan matrons: but, after a certain number of years, 
Grecian fire shall consume the Trojan palaces. ” 


ODE XVI. 

To a Young Lady Horace Had Offended. 

O daughter, more charming than your charming 
mother, put what end you please to my insulting iambics; 
either in the flames, or, if you choose it, in the Adriatic. 
Nor Cybele, nor Apollo, the dweller in the shrines, so 
shakes the breast of his priests; Bacchus does not do 
it equally, nor do the Corybantes so redouble their 
strokes on the sharp-sounding cymbals, as direful anger; 
which neither the Noric sword can deter, nor the ship¬ 
wrecking sea, nor dreadful fire, nor Jupiter himself 
rushing down with awful crash. It is reported that 
Prometheus was obliged to add to that original clay 
[with which he formed mankind], some ingredient taken 
from every animal, and that he applied the vehemence 
of the raging lion to the human breast. It was rage 
that destroyed Thyestes with horrible perdition; and has 
been the final cause that lofty cities have been entirely 
demolished, and that an insolent army has driven the 


ode xvn. xviii. ODES OF HORACE 


13 


hostile plowshare over their walls. Compose your mind. 
An ardor of soul attacked me also in blooming youth, 
and drove me in a rage to the writing of swift-footed 
iambics. Now I am desirous of exchanging severity 
for good nature, provided that you will become my 
friend, after my having recanted my abuse, and restore 
me your affections. 


ODE XVII. 

To Tyndaris. 

The nimble Faunus often exchanges the Lycaean 
mountain for the pleasant Lucretilis, and always defends 
my she-goats from the scorching summer, and the rainy 
winds. The wandering wives of the unsavory husband 
seek the hidden strawberry-trees and thyme with security 
through the safe grove: nor do the kids dread the green 
lizards, or the wolves sacred to Mars; whenever, my 
Tyndaris, the vales and the smooth rocks of the sloping 
Ustica have resounded with his melodious pipe, The 
gods are my protectors. My piety and my muse are 
agreeable to the gods. Here plenty, rich with rural 
honors, shall flow to you, with her generous horn filled 
to the brim. Here, in a sequestered vale, you shall 
avoid the heat of the dog-star; and, on your Anacreontic 
harp, sing of Penelope and the frail Circe striving for 
one lover; here you shall quaff, under the shade, cups 
of unintoxicating Lesbian. Nor shall the raging son 
of Semele enter the combat with Mars; and unsuspected 
you shall not fear the insolent Cyrus, lest he should 
savagely lay his intemperate hands on you, who are 
by no means a match for him; and should rend 
chaplet that is platted in your hair, and your inoffensive 
garment. 


ODE XVIII. 

To Varus. 

O Varus, you can plant no tree preferable to the 
sacred vine, about the mellow soil of Tibur, and the 


14 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


walls of Catilus. For God hath rendered every thing 
cross to the sober; nor do biting cares disperse any 
otherwise [than by the use of wine]. Who, after wine, 
complains of the hardships of war or of poverty? Who 
does not rather [celebrate] thee, Father Bacchus, and 
thee, comely Venus? Nevertheless, the battle of the 
Centaurs with the Lapithae, which was fought in their 
cups, admonishes us not to exceed a moderate use of 
the gifts of Bacchus. And Bacchus himself admonishes 
us in his severity to the Thracians; when greedy to 
satisfy their lusts, they make little distinction between 
right and wrong. O beauteous Bacchus, I will not rouse 
thee against thy will, nor will I hurry abroad thy [mys¬ 
teries, which are] covered with various leaves. Cease 
your dire cymbals, together with your Phrygian horn, 
whose followers are blind Self-love and Arrogance, hold¬ 
ing up too high her empty head, and the Faith com¬ 
municative of secrets, and more transparent than glass. 

ODE XIX. 

To Glycera. 

The cruel mother of the Cupids, and the son of 
Theban Semele, and lascivious ease, command me to 
give back my mind to its deserted loves. The splendor 
of Glycera, shining brighter than the Parian marble, 
inflames me: her agreeable petulance, and her counte¬ 
nance, too unsteady to be beheld, inflame me. Venus, 
rushing on me with her whole force, has quitted Cyprus; 
and suffers me not to sing of the Scythians, and the 
Parthian, furious when his horse is turned for flight, 
or any subject which is not to the present purpose. Here, 
slaves, place me a live turf; here, place me vervains 
and frankincense, with a flagon of two-year-old wine. 
She will approach more propitious, after a victim has 
been sacrificed. 


ODE XX. 

To Maecenas. 

My dear knight Maecenas, you shall drink [at my 
house] ignoble Sabine wine in sober cups, which I myself 


ode xxi. xxii. ODES OF HORACE 


15 


sealed up in the Grecian cask, stored at the time, when 
so loud an applause was given to you in the amphi¬ 
theater, that the banks of your ancestral river, together 
with the cheerful echo of the Vatican mountain, returned 
your praises. You [when you are at home] will drink 
the Csecuban, and the grape which is squeezed in the 
Calenian press; but neither the Falernian vines, nor the 
Formian hills, season my cups. 


ODE XXI. 

On Diana and Apollo. 

Ye tender virgins, sing Diana; ye boys, sing Apollo 
with his unshorn hair, and Latona passionately beloved 
by the supreme Jupiter. Ye (virgins), praise her that 
rejoices in the rivers, and the thick groves, which pro¬ 
ject either from the cold Algidus, or the gloomy woods 
of Erymanthus, or the green Cragus. Ye boys, extol 
with equal praises Apollo’s Delos, and his shoulder 
adorned with a quiver, and with his brother Mercury’s 
lyre. He, moved by your intercession, shall drive away 
calamitous war, and miserable famine, and the plague 
from the Roman people and their sovereign Caesar, to 
the Persians and the Britons. 


ODE XXII. 

To Aristius Fuscus. 

The man of upright life and pure from wickedness, 
O Fuscus, has no need of the Moorish javelins or bow, 
or quiver loaded with poisoned darts. Whether he is 
about to make his journey through the sultry Syrtes, 
or the inhospitable Caucasus, or those places which 
Hydaspes, celebrated in story, washes. For lately, as 
I was singing my Lalage, and wandered beyond my 
usual bounds, devoid of care, a wolf in the Sabine wood 
fled from me, though I was unarmed: such a monster, 
as neither the warlike Apulia nourishes in its extensive 


16 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


woods, nor the land of Juba, the dry nurse of lions, 
produces. Place me in those barren plains, where no 
tree is refreshed by the genial air; at that part of the 
world, which clouds and an inclement atmosphere infest. 
Place me under the chariot of the too neighboring sun, 
in a land deprived of habitations; [there] will I love 
my sweetly-smiling, sweetly-speaking Lalage. 


ODE XXIII. 

To Chloe. 

You shun me, Chloe, like a fawn that is seeking its 
timorous mother in the pathless mountains, not without 
a vain dread of the breezes and the thickets: for she 
trembles both in her heart and knees, whether the 
arrival of the spring has terrified by its rustling leaves, 
or the green lizards have stirred the bush. But I do 
not follow you, like a savage tigress, or a Gsetulian 
lion, to tear you to pieces. Therefore, quit your mother, 
now that you are mature for a husband. 


CDE XXIV. 

To Virgil. 

What shame or bound can there be to our affectionate 
regret for so dear a person? O Melpomene, on whom 
your father has bestowed a clear voice and the harp, 
teach me the mournful strains. Does then perpetual 
sleep oppress Quinctilius? To whom when will modesty, 
and uncorrupt faith the sister of Justice, and undis¬ 
guised truth, find any equal? He died lamented by 
many good men, but more lamented by none than by you, 
my Virgil. You, though pious, alas! in vain demand 
Quinctilius back from the gods, who did not lend him 
to us on such terms. What, though you could strike 
the lyre, listened to by the trees, with more sweetness 
than the Thracian Orpheus; yet the blood can never 
return to the empty shade, which Mercury, inexorable 


ode xxv. xxvi. ODES OF HORACE 


17 


to reverse the fates has with his dreadful Caduceus once 
driven to the gloomy throng. This is hard: but what 
it is out of our power to amend, becomes more sup¬ 
portable by patience. 


ODE XXV. 

To Lydia. 

The wanton youths less violently shake thy fastened 
windows with their redoubled knocks, nor do they rob 
you of your rest; and your door, which formerly moved 
its yielding hinges freely, now sticks lovingly to its 
threshold. Less and less often do you now hear: “My 
Lydia, dost thou sleep the live-long night while I your 
lover am dying?” Now you are an old woman, it 
will be your turn to bewail the insolence of rakes, when 
you are neglected in a lonely alley, while the Thracian 
winds rages at the Interlunium: when that hot desire 
and lust, which is wont to render furious the dams of 
horses, shall rage about your ulcerous liver: not without 
complaint, that sprightly youth rejoice rather in the 
verdant ivy and growing myrtle, and dedicate sapless 
leaves to Eurus, the companion of winter. 


ODE XXVI. 

To JElius Lamia. 

A friend to the Muses, I will deliver up grief and 
fears to the wanton winds, to waft into the Cretan 
Sea; singularly careless, what king of a frozen region 
is dreaded under the pole, or what terrifies Tiridates. 
O sweet muse, who art delighted with pure fountains, 
weave together the sunny flowers, weave a chaplet for 
my Lamia. Without thee, my praises profit nothing. 
To render him immortal by new strains, to render him 
immortal by the Lesbian lyre, becomes both thee and 
thy sisters. 


18 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


ODE XXVII. 

To His Companions. 

To quarrel over your cups, which were made for joy, 
is downright Thracian. Away with the barbarous 
custom, and protect modest Bacchus from bloody frays. 
How immensely disagreeable to wine and candles is the 
saber of the Medes! O my companions, repress your 
wicked vociferations, and rest quietly on bended elbow. 
Would you have me also take my share of stout 
Falernian? Let the brother of Opuntian Megilla then 
declare, with what wound he is blessed, with what dart 
he is dying.—What, do you refuse? I will not drink 
upon any other condition. Whatever kind of passion 
rules you, it scorches you with the flames you need not 
be ashamed of, and you always indulge in an honorable, 
an ingenuous love. Come, whatever is your case, trust 
it to faithful ears. Ah, unhappy! in what a Charybdis 
art thou struggling, O youth, worthy of a'better flame! 
What witch, what magician, with his Thessalian in¬ 
cantations, what deity can free you? Pegasus himself 
will scarcely deliver you, so entangled, from this three¬ 
fold chimera. 


ODE XXVIII. 

Archytas. 

The [want of the] scanty present of a little sand 
near the Mantinian shore, confines thee, O Archytas, the 
surveyor of sea and earth, and of the innumerable sand: 
neither is it of any advantage to you, to have explored 
the celestial regions, and to have traversed the round 
world in your imagination, since thou wast to die. Thus 
also did the father of Pelops, the guest of the gods, 
die; and Tithonus likewise was translated to the skies, 
and Minos, though admitted to the secrets of Jupiter; 
and the Tartarean regions are possessed of the son of 
Panthous, once more sent down to the receptacle of the 


ODE XXIX. 


ODES OF HORACE 


19 


dead; notwithstanding, having retaken his shield from 
the temple, he gave evidence of the Trojan times, and 
that he had resigned to gloomy death nothing but his 
sinews and skin; in your opinion, no inconsiderable 
judge of truth and nature. But the same night awaits 
all, and the road of death must once be traveled. The 
Furies give up some to the sport of horrible Mars: the 
greedy ocean is destructive to sailors: the mingled 
funerals of young and old are crowded together: not 
a single person does the cruel Prosperine pass by. The 
south wind, the tempestuous attendant on the setting 
Orion, has sunk me also in the Illyrian waves. But 
do not thou, O sailor, malignantly grudge to give a 
portion of loose sand to my bones and unburied head. 
So, whatever the east wind shall threaten to the Italian 
sea, let the Venusinian woods suffer, while you are in 
safety; and manifold profit, from whatever port it may, 
come to you by favoring Jove, and Neptune, the de¬ 
fender of consecrated Tarentum. JBut if you, by chance, 
make light of committing a crime, which will be hurtful 
to your innocent posterity, may just laws and haughty 
retribution await you. I will not be deserted with 
fruitless prayers; and no expiations shall atone for 
you. Though you are in haste, you need not tarry long: 
after having thrice sprinkled the dust over me, you may 
proceed. 


ODE XXIX. 

To Iccius. 

O Iccius, you now covet the opulent treasures of the 
Arabians, and are preparing vigorous for a war against 
the kings of Saba, hitherto unconquered, and are form¬ 
ing chains for the formidable Mede. What barbarian 
virgin shall be your slave, after you have killed her 
betrothed husband? What boy from the court shall be 
made your cup-bearer, with his perfumed locks, skilled 
to direct the Seric arrows with his father’s bow? Who 
will now deny that it is probable for precipitate rivers 
to flow back again to the high mountains, and for 


20 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


Tiber to change his course, since you are about to ex¬ 
change the noble works of Pangetius, collected from all 
parts, together with the whole Socratic family, for 
Iberian armor, after you had promised better things? 

ODE XXX. 

To Venus. 

O Venus, queen of Gnidus and Paphos, neglect your 
favorite Cyprus, and transport yourself into the beauti¬ 
ful temple of Glycera, who is invoking you with 
abundance of frankincense. Let your glowing son hasten 
along with you, and the Graces with their zones loosed, 
and the Nymphs, and Youth possessed of little charm 
without you and Mercury. 

ODE XXXI. 

To Apollo. 

What does the poet beg from Phoebus on the dedica¬ 
tion of his temple? What does he pray for, while he 
pours from the flagon the first libation? Not the rich 
crops of fertile Sardinia: not the goodly flocks of 
scorched Calabria: not gold, or Indian ivory: not those 
countries, which the still river Liris eats away with its 
silent streams. Let those to whom fortune 4 has given 
the Calenian vineyards, prune them with a hooked knife; 
and let the wealthy merchant drink out of golden cups 
the wines procured by his Syrian merchandize, favored 
by the gods themselves, inasmuch as without loss he 
visits three or four times a year the Atlantic Sea. Me 
olives support, me succories and soft mallows. O thou 
son of Latona, grant me to enjoy my acquisitions, and 
to possess my health, together with an unimpaired 
understanding, I beseech thee; and that I may not lead 
a dishonorable old age, nor one bereft of the lyre. 

ODE XXXII. 

To Eis Lyre. 

We are called upon. If ever, O lyre, in idle amuse¬ 
ment in the shade with thee, we have played any thing 


ode xxxiii. xxxiv. ODES OF HORACE 


21 


that may live for this year and many, come on, be 
responsive to a Latin ode, my dear lyre—first tuned 
by a Lesbian citizen, who, fierce in war, yet amid arms, 
or if he had made fast to the watery shore his tossed 
vessel, sung Bacchus, and the Muses, and Venus, and the 
boy her ever-close attendant, and Lycus, lovely for his 
black eyes and jetty locks. O thou ornament of Apollo, 
charming shell, agreeable even at the banquets of supreme 
Jove! O thou sweet alleviator of anxious toils, be 
propitious to me, whenever duly invoking thee! 


ODE XXXIII. 

To Albvus Tibullus. 

Grieve not too much, my Albius, thoughtful of cruel 
Glycera; nor chant your mournful elegies, because, as 
her faith being broken, a younger man is more agreeable 
than you in her eyes. A love for Cyrus inflames Lycoris, 
distinguished for her little forehead: Cyrus follows the 
rough Pholoe; but she-goats shall sooner be united to 
the Apulian wolves, than Pholoe shall commit a crime 
with a base adulterer. Such is the will of Venus, who 
delights in cruel sport, to subject to her brazen yokes 
persons and tempers ill suited to each other. As for 
myself, the slave-born Myrtale, more untractable than 
the Adriatic Sea that forms the Calabrian gulfs, en¬ 
tangled me in a pleasing chain, at the very time that 
a more eligible love courted my embraces. 


ODE XXXIV. 

Against the Epicureans. 

A remiss and irregular worshiper of the gods, while 
I professed the. errors of a senseless philosophy, I am 
now obliged to set sail back again, and to renew the 
course that I had deserted. For Jupiter, who usually 
cleaves the clouds with his gleaming lightning, lately 
drove his thundering horses and rapid chariot through 


22 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I, 


the clear serene; at which the sluggish earth, and 
wandering rivers; at which Styx, and the horrid seat of 
detested Taenarus, and the utmost boundary of Atlas i 
were shaken. The Deity is able to make exchange be- l 
tween the highest and the lowest, and diminishes the jj 
exalted, bringing to light the obscure; rapacious fortune, j 
with a shrill whizzing, has borne off the plume from " 
one head, and delights in having placed it on another. 


ODE XXXV. 

To Fortune. 

O goddess, who presidest over beautiful Antium; thou, 
that are ready to exalt mortal man from the most abject j 
state, or to convert superb triumphs into funerals! Thee 
the poor countryman solicits with his anxious vows; 
whosoever plows the Carpathian Sea with the Bithyn- 
ian vessel, importunes thee, as mistress of the ocean. 
Thee the rough Dacian, thee the wandering Scythians, i 
and cities, and nations, and warlike Latium also, and 
the mothers of barbarian kings, and tyrants clad in 
purple, fear. Spurn not with destructive foot that 
column which now stands firm, nor let popular tumult 
rouse those, who now rest quiet, to arms—to arms—and i 
break the empire. Necessity, thy minister, always 
marches before thee, holding in her brazen hand huge 
spikes and wedges; nor is the unyielding clamp absent, 
nor the melted lead. Thee Hope reverences, and rare 
Fidelity, robed in a white garment; nor does she refuse 
to bear thee company, howsoever in wrath thou change j 
thy robe, and abandon the houses of the powerful. But j 
the faithless crowd [of companions], and the perjured ; 
harlot draw back. Friends, too faithless to bear equally 
the yoke of adversity, when casks are exhausted, very 
dregs and all, fly off. Preserve thou Caesar, who is 
meditating an expedition against the Britons, the furthest 
people in the world, and also the new levy of youths 
to be dreaded by the Eastern regions, and the Red Sea. 
Alas! I am ashamed of our scars, and our wicked¬ 
ness, and of brethren. What have we, a hardened age, 




ODES OF HORACE 


23 


ODE XXXVII. 


avoided? What have we in our impiety left unviolated! 
From what have our youth restrained their hands, out 
of reverence to the gods? What altars have they spared? 
O mayest thou forge anew our blunted swords on a 
different anvil against the Massagetse and Arabians. 


ODE XXXVI. 

This is a joyful occasion to sacrifice both with incense 
and music of the lyre, and the votive blood of a heifer 
to the gods, the guardians of Numida; who, now return¬ 
ing in safety from the extremest part of Spain, imparts 
many embraces to his beloved companions, but to none 
more than his dear Lamia, mindful of his childhood 
spent under one and the same governor, and of the 
gown, which they changed at the same time. Let not 
this joyful day be without a Cretan mark of distinction; 
let us not spare the jar brought forth [from the cellar]; 
nor, Salian-like, let there be any cessation of feet; nor 
let the toping Damalis conquer Bassus in the Thracian 
Amystis; nor let there be roses wanting to the banquet, 
nor the ever-green parsley, nor the short-lived lily. All 
the company will fix their dissolving eyes on Damalis; 
but she, more luxuriant than the wanton ivy, will not be 
separated from her new lover. 


ODE XXXVII. 

To His Companions. 

Now, my companions, is the time to carouse, now to 
beat the ground with a light foot: now is the time that 
was to deck the couch of the gods with Salian dainties. 
Before this, it was impious to produce the old Cgecuban 
stored up by your ancestors; while the queen, with a 
I contaminated gang of creatures, noisome through dis¬ 
temper, was preparing giddy destruction for the Capitol 
| and the subversion of the empire, being weak enough to 
hope for any thing, and intoxicated with her prospering 
fortune. But scarcely a single ship preserved from the 






24 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


flames bated her fury; and Caesar brought down her 
mind, inflamed with Egyptian wine, to real fears, close 
pursuing her in her flight from Italy with his galleys 
(as the hawk pursues the tender doves, or the nimble 
hunter the hare in the plains of snowy Jlmon), that 
he might throw into chains this destructive monster [of 
a woman]; who, seeking a more generous death, neither 
had an effeminate dread of the sword, nor repaired with 
her swift ship to hidden shores. She was able also to 
look upon her palace, lying in ruins, with a countenance 
unmoved, and courageous enough to handle exasperated 
asps, that she might imbibe in her body the deadly 
poison, being more resolved by having pre-meditated her 
death: for she was a woman of such greatness of soul, 
as to scorn to be carried off in haughty triumph, like a 
private person, by rough Liburnians. 


ODE XXXVIII. 

To His Servant. 

Boy, I detest the pomp of the Persians; chaplets, 
which are woven with the rind of the linden, displease 
me; give up the search for the place where the latter 
rose abides. It is my particular desire that you make 
no laborious addition to the plain myrtle; for myrtle 
is neither unbecoming you a servant, nor me, while I 
quaff under this mantling vine. 



THE ODES OE HORACE 


BOOK TWO 


ODE I. 

To Asinius Pollio. 

You are treating of the civil commotion, which began 
from the consulship of Metellus, and the causes, and the 
errors, and the operations of the war, and the game that 
fortune played, and the pernicious confederacy of the 
chiefs, and arms stained with blood not yet expiated— 
a work full of danger and hazard: and you are treading 
upon fires, hidden under deceitful ashes: let therefore 
the muse that presides over severe tragedy, be for a 
while absent from the theaters; shortly, when thou hast 
completed the narrative of the public affairs, you shall 
resume your great work in the tragic style of Athens, 
O Pollio, thou excellent succor to sorrowing defendants 
and a consulting senate; [Pollio,] to whom the laurel 
produced immortal honors in the Dalmatian triumph. 
Even now you stun our ears with the threatening mur¬ 
mur of horns: now the clarions sound; now the glitter 
of arms affrights the flying steeds, and dazzles the sight 
of the riders. Now I seem to hear of great commanders 
besmeared with glorious dust, and the whole earth sub¬ 
dued, except the stubborn soul of Cato. Juno, and 
every other god propitious to the Africans, impotently 
went off, leaving that land unrevenged; but soon offered 
the descendants of the conquerors, as sacrifices to the 
manes of Jugurtha. What plain, enriched by Latin 

25 



26 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


blood, bears not record, by its numerous sepulchers, of 
our impious battles, and of the sound of the downfall 
of Italy, heard even by the Medes? What pool, what 
rivers, are unconscious of our deplorable war? What 
sea have not the Daunian slaughters discolored? What 
shore is unstained by our blood? Do not, however, rash 
muse, neglecting your jocose strains, resume the task 
of Csean plaintive son, but rather with me seek measures 
of a lighter style beneath some love-sequestered grotto. 


ODE II. 

To Crispus Sallustius. 

O Crispus Sallustius, thou foe to bullion, unless it de¬ 
rives splendor from a moderate enjoyment, there is no 
luster in money concealed in the niggard earth. Pro- 
culeius shall live an extended age, conspicuous for 
fatherly affection to brothers; surviving fame shall bear 
him on an untiring wing. You may possess a more 
extensive dominion by controlling a craving disposition, 
than if you could unite Libya to the distant Gades, and 
the natives of both the Carthages were subject to you 
alone. The direful dropsy increases by self-indulgence, 
nor extinguishes its thirst, unless the cause of the dis¬ 
order has departed from the * veins, and the watery 
languor from the pallid body. Virtue, differing from 
the vulgar, excepts Phraates though restored to the 
throne of Cyrus, from the number of the happy; and 
teaches the populace to disuse false names for things, 
by conferring the kingdom and a safe diadem and the 
perpetual laurel upon him alone, who can view large 
heaps of treasure with undazzled eye. 

ODE III. 

To Quintus Dellius. 

O Dellius, since thou art born to die, be mindful to 
preserve a temper of mind even in times of difficulty, 


ODE IV. 


ODES OF HORACE 


27 


as well as restrained from insolent exultation in pros¬ 
perity: whether thou shalt lead a life of continual sad¬ 
ness, or through happy days regale thyself with 
Falernian wine of the oldest date, at ease reclined in 
some grassy retreat, where the lofty pine and hoary 
poplar delight to interweave their boughs into a hos¬ 
pitable shade, and the clear current with trembling sur¬ 
face purls along the meandering rivulet. Hither order 
[your slaves] to bring the wine, and the perfumes, and 
the too short-lived flowers of the grateful rose, while 
fortune, and age, and the sable threads of the three 
sisters permit thee. You must depart from your numer¬ 
ous purchased groves; from your house also, and that 
villa, which the yellow Tiber washes, you must depart: 
and an heir shall possess these high-piled riches. It is 
of no consequence whether you are the wealthy de¬ 
scendant of ancient Inachus, or whether, poor and of the 
most ignoble race, you live without a covering from the 
open air, since you are the victim of merciless Pluto. 
We are all driven toward the same quarter: the lot of 
all is shaken in the urn; destined sooner or later to 
come forth, and embark us in [Charon’s] boat for ex¬ 
ternal exile. 


ODE IY. 

The Xanthias Phoceus. 

. Let not, O Xanthias Phoceus, your passion for your 
maid put you out of countenance; before your time, 
the slave Brisei's moved the haughty Achilles by her 
snowy complexion. The beauty of the captive Tecmessa 
smote her master, the Telamonian Ajax; Agamemnon, 
in the midst of victory, burned for a ravished virgin: 
when the barbarian troops fell by the hands of their 
Thessalian conqueror, and Hector, vanquished^ left Troy 
more easily to be destroyed by the Grecians. You do 
not know that perchance the beautiful Phyllis has 
parents of condition happy enough to do honor to you 
their son-in-law. Certainly she must be of royal race, 
and laments the unpropitiousness of her family-gods. 


28 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK JI. ' 


Be confident, that your beloved is not of the worthless 
crowd; nor that one so true, so unmercenary, could 
possibly be born of a mother to be ashamed of. I can 
commend arms, and face, and well-made legs, quite 
chastely: avoid being jealous of one, whose age is 
hastening onward to bring its eighth lustrum to a close. 


ODE Y. 

Not yet is she fit to be broken to the yoke; not yet 
is she equal to the duties of a partner, nor can she 
support the weight of the bull impetuously rushing to 
enjoyment. Your heifer’s sole inclination is about 
verdant fields, one while in running streams soothing the 
grievous heat; at another, highly delighted, to frisk with 
the steerlings in the moist willow-ground. Suppress your 
appetite for the immature grape; shortly variegated 
autumn will tinge for thee the livid clusters with a 
purple hue. Shortly she shall follow you; for her im¬ 
petuous time runs on, and shall place to her account 
those years of which it abridges you; shortly Lalage 
with a wanton assurance will seek a husband, beloved 
in a higher degree than the coy Pholoe, or even 
Chloris; shining as brightly with her fair shoulder, as 
the spotless moon upon the midnight sea, or even the 
Gnidian Gyges, whom if you should intermix in a com¬ 
pany of girls, the undiscernible difference occasioned 
by his flowing locks and doubtful countenance would 
wonderfully impose even on sagacious strangers. 


ODE YI. 

To Septimius. 

Septimius, who art ready to go with me, even to 
Gades, and to the Cantabrian, still untaught to bear 
our yoke, and the inhospitable Syrtes, where the Mauri¬ 
tanian wave perpetually boils: *0 may Tibur, founded 
by a Grecian colony, be the habitation of my old age! 
There let there be an end to my fatigues by sea, and 


ODE VII. 


ODES OF HORACE 


29 


land, and war, whence if the cruel fates debar me, I 
will seek the river of Galesus, delightful for sheep cov¬ 
ered with skins, and the countries reigned over by 
Lacedaemonian Phalantus. That corner of the world 
smiles in my eye beyond all others; where the honey 
yields not to the Hymettian, and the olive rivals the 
verdant Yenafrian: where the temperature of the air 
produces a long spring and mild winters, and Aulon 
friendly to the fruitful vine, envies not the Falernian 
grapes. That place, and those blest heights, solicit you 
and me; there you shall bedew the glowing ashes of 
your poet friend with a tear due [to his memory]. 

ODE VII. 

To Pompems Varus. 

O thou, often reduced with me to the last extremity 
in the war which Brutus carried on, who has restored 
thee as a Roman citizen, to the gods of thy country 
and the Italian air, Pompey, thou first of my com¬ 
panions; with whom I have frequently broken the 
tedious day in drinking, having my hair, shining with 
the Syrian malobathrum, crowned [with flowers]! To¬ 
gether with thee did I experience the [battle of] 
Philippi and a precipitate flight, having shamefully 
enough left my shield; when valor was broken, and the 
most daring smote the squalid earth with their faces. 
But Mercury swift conveyed me away, terrified as I 
was, in a thick cloud through the midst of the enemy. 
Thee the reciprocating sea, with his tempestuous waves, 
bore back again to war. Wherefore render to Jupiter 
the offering that is due, and deposit your limbs, wearied 
with a tedious war, under my laurel, and spare not the 
casks reserved for you. Fill up the polished bowls with 
care-dispelling Massic: pour out the perfumed oint¬ 
ments from the capacious shells. Who takes care to 
quickly weave the chaplets of fresh parsley or myrtle? 
Whom shall the Venus pronounce to be master of the 
revel? In wild carouse I will become frantic as the 
Bacchanalians. 'Tis delightful to me to play the mad¬ 
man. on the reception of my friends. 



30 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


ODE VIII. 

To Ba rin e. 

If any punishment, Barine, for your violated oath 
had ever been of prejudice to you: if you had become 
less agreeable by the blackness of a single tooth or 
nail, I might believe you. But you no sooner have 
bound your perfidious head with vows, but you shine 
out more charming by far, and come forth the public 
care of our youth. It is of advantage to you to deceive 
the buried ashes of your mother, and the silent con¬ 
stellations of the night, together with all heaven, and 
the gods- free from chill death. Venus herself, I pro¬ 
fess, laughs at this; the good-natured nymphs laugh, and 
cruel Cupid, who is perpetually sharpening his burning 
darts on a bloody whetstone. Add to this, that all our 
boys are growing up for you; a new herd of slaves is 
growing up; nor do the former ones quit the house of 
their impious mistress, notwithstanding they often have 
threatened it. The matrons are in dread of you on 
account of their young ones; the thrifty old men are 
in dread of you;* and the girls but just married are 
in distress, lest your beauty should slacken [the affec¬ 
tions of] their husbands. 


ODE IX. 

To Titus Valgius . 

Showers do not perpetually pour down upon the 
rough fields, nor do varying hurricanes for ever harass 
the Caspian Sea; nor, my friend Valgius, does the 
motionless ice remain fixed throughout all the months, 
in the regions of Armenia; nor do the Garganian oaks 
[always] labor under the northerly winds, nor are the 
^^'Nish-trees widowed of their leaves. But thou art con¬ 
tinually pursuing Mystes, who is taken from thee, with 
mournful measures: nor do the effects of thy love for 
him cease at the rising of Vesper, or when he flies the 


ODE X. XI. 


ODES OF HORACE 


31 


rapid approach of the sun. But the aged man who lived 
three generations, did not lament the amiable Antilochus 
all the years of his life: nor did his parents or his 
Trojan sisters perpetually bewail .the blooming Tro'ilus. 
At length then desist from thy tender complaints; and 
rather let us sing the fresh trophies of Augustus Caesar, 
and the Frozen Niphates, and the river Medus, added to 
the vanquished nations, rolls more humble tides, and the 
Gelonians riding within a prescribed boundary in a 
narrow tract of land. 


ODE X. 

To Licinius Murena. 

O Licinius, you will lead a more correct course of 
life, by neither always pursuing the main ocean, nor, 
while you cautiously are in dread of storms, by press¬ 
ing too much upon the hazardous shore. Whosoever 
loves the golden mean, is secure from the sordidness of 
an antiquated cell, and is too prudent to have a palace 
that might expose him to envy. The lofty pine is more 
frequently agitated with winds, and high towers fall 
down with a heavier ruin, and lightnings strike the 
summits of the mountains. A well-provided breast 
hopes in adversity, and fears in prosperity. ’Tis the 
same Jupiter, that brings the hideous winters back, and 
that takes them away. If it is ill with us now, it will 
not be so hereafter. Apollo sometimes rouses the silent 
lyric muse, neither does he always bend his bow. In 
narrow circumstances appear in high spirits, and un¬ 
daunted. In the same manner you will prudently con¬ 
tract your sails, which are apt to be too much swollen 
in a prosperous gale. 


ODE XI. 

To Quintius Eirpinus. 

O Quintius Hirpinus, forbear to be inquisitive what 
the Cantabrian, and the Scythian, divided from us by 


32 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK II 


the interposed Adriatic, is meditating; neither be fear¬ 
fully solicitous for the necessaries of a life, which requires 
but a few things. Youth and beauty fly swift away, 
while sapless old age expels the wanton loves and gentle 
sleep. The same glory does not always remain to the 
vernal flowers, nor does the ruddy moon shine with one 
continued aspect; why, therefore, do you fatigue your 
mind, unequal to eternal projects? Why do we not 
rather (while it is in our power) thus carelessly re* 
dining under a lofty plane-tree, or this pine, with our 
hoary locks made fragrant by roses, and anointed with 
Syrian perfume, indulge ourselves with generous wine? 
Bacchus dissipates preying cares. What slave is here, 
instantly to cool some cups of ardent Falernian in the 
passing stream? Who will tempt the vagrant wanton 
Lyde from her house? See that you bid her hasten 
with her ivory lyre, collecting her hair into a graceful 
knot, after the fashion of a Spartan maid. 


ODE XII. 

To Mcecenas. 

Do no insist that the long wars of fierce Numantia, 
or the formidable Annibal, or the Sicilian Sea im- 
purpled with Carthaginian blood, should be adapted to 
the tender lays of the lyre: nor the cruel Lapithae, nor 
Hylaeus excessive in wine, and the earth-born youths, 
subdued by Herculean force, from whom the splendid 
habitation of old Saturn dreaded danger. And you 
yourself, Maecenas, with more propriety shall he count 
the battles of Caesar, and the necks of haughty kings led 
in triumph through the streets in historical prose. It 
was the muse’s will that I should celebrate the sweet 
strains of my mistress Lycimnia, that I should celebrate 
her bright-darting eyes, and her breast laudably faithful 
to mutual love: who can with a grace introduce her 
foot into the dance, or, sporting, contend in raillery, or 
join arms with the bright virgins on the celebrated 
Diana’s festival. Would you, [Maecenas,] change one 
of Lycimnia’s tresses for all the rich Achaemenes pos- 


ODE XIII. 


ODES OF HORACE 


33 


sessed, or the Mygdonian wealth of fertile Phrygia, or 
all the dwellings of the Arabians replete with treasures? 
Especially when she turns her neck to meet your burn¬ 
ing kisses, or with a gentle cruelty denies, what she 
would more delight to have ravished than the petitioner 
—or sometimes eagerly anticipates to snatch them 
herself. 


ODE XIII. 

To a Tree. 

O tree he planted thee on an unlucky day whoever 
did it first, and with an impious hand raised thee for 
the destruction of posterity, and the scandal of the 
village. I could believe that he had broken his own 
father’s neck, and stained his most secret apartments 
with the midnight blood of his guest. He was wont to 
handle Colchian poisons, and whatever wickedness is any 
where conceived, who planted in my field thee, a sorry 
log; thee, ready to fall on the head of thy inoffensive 
, master. What he ought to be aware of, no man is suffi¬ 
ciently cautious at all hours. The Carthaginian sailor 
thoroughly dreads the Bosphorus; nor, beyond that, does 
he fear a hidden fate from any other quarter. The soldier 
dreads the arrows and the fleet retreat of the Parthian; 
the Parthian, chains and an Italian prison; but the un¬ 
expected assault of death has carried off, and will carry 
off, the world in general. How near was I seeing the 
dominions of black Proserpine, and iEacus sitting in 
judgment; the separate abodes also of the pious, and 
Sappho complaining on her iEolian lyre of her own 
country-damsels; and thee, O Alcaeus, sounding in fuller 
strains on thy golden harp the distresses of exile, and the 
distresses of war. The ghosts admire them both, while 
they utter strains worthy of a sacred silence; but the 
crowded multitude, pressing with their shoulders, im¬ 
bibes, with a more greedy ear, battles and banished 
tyrants. What wonder? Since the many-headed monster, 
astonished at those lays, hangs down his sable ears; 
and the snakes, entwined in the hair of the furies, are 


34 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


soothed. Moreover, Prometheus and the sire of Pelops 
are deluded into an insensibility of their torments, by 
the melodious sound: nor is Orion any longer solicitous 
to harass the lions, or the fearful lynxes. 


ODE XIV. 

To Postumus. 

Alas! my Postumus, my Postumus, the fleeting years 
glide on; nor will piety cause any delay to wrinkles, and 
advancing old age, and insuperable death. You could 
not, if you were to sacrifice every passing day three 
hundred bulls, render propitious pitiless Pluto, who con¬ 
fines the thrice-monstrous Geryon and Tityus with the 
dismal Stygian stream, namely, that stream which is to 
be passed over by all who are fed by the bounty of the 
earth, whether we be kings or poor hinds. In vain shall 
we be free from sanguinary Mars, and the broken billows 
of the hoarse Adriatic; in vain shall we be apprehensive 
for ourselves of the noxious South, in the time of 
autumn. The black Cocytus wandering with languid 
current, and the infamous, race of Danaus, and Sisy¬ 
phus, the son of the iEolus, doomed to eternal toil, must 
be visited; your land and house and pleasing wife must 
be left, nor shall any of those trees, which you are 
nursing, follow you, their master for a brief space, ex¬ 
cept the hated cypresses; a worthier heir shall consume 
your Caecuban wines now guarded with a hundred keys, 
and shall wet the pavement with the haughty wine, 
more exquisite than what graces pontifical entertain¬ 
ments. 


ODE XV. 

Against the Luxury of the Eomans. 

The palace-like edifices will in a short time leave but 
a few acres for the plow; ponds of wider extent than the 
Lucrine lake will be every where to be seen; and the 


ODE XVI. 


ODES OF HORACE 


35 


barren plane-tree will supplant the elms. Then banks 
of violets, and myrtle groves, and all the tribe of nose¬ 
gays shall diffuse their odors in the olive plantations, 
which were fruitful to their preceding master. Then 
the laurel with dense boughs shall exclude the burning 
beams. It was not so prescribed by the institutes of 
Romulus, and the unshaven Cato, and ancient custom. 
Their private income was contracted while that of the 
community was great. No private men were then pos¬ 
sessed of galleries measured by ten-feet rules, which col¬ 
lected the shady northern breezes; nor did the laws 
permit them to reject the casual turf [for their own 
huts], though at the same time they obliged them to 
ornament in the most sumptuous manner, with new 
stone, the buildings of the public, and the temples of 
the gods, at a common expense. 


ODE XYI. 

To Grosphus. 

O Grosphus, he that is caught in the wide iEgean 
Sea, when a black tempest has obscured the moon, and 
not a star appears with steady light for the mariners, 
supplicates the gods for repose: for repose, Thrace 
furious in war; the quiver-graced Medes, for repose 
neither purchasable by jewels, nor by purple, nor by 
gold. For neither regal treasures nor the consul's officer 
can remove the wretched tumults of the mind, nor the 
cares that hover about splendid ceilings. That man 
lives happily on a little, who can view with pleasure 
the old-fashioned family salt-cellar on his frugal board; 
neither anxiety nor sordid avarice robs him of gentle 
sleep. Why do we, brave for a short season, aim at many 
things? Why do we change our own for climates heated 
by another sun ? Who ever, by becoming an exile from his 
country, escaped likewise from himself? Consuming care 
boards even brazen-beaked ships; nor does it quit the 
troops of horsemen, for it is more fleet than the stags, 
more fleet than the storm-driving east wind. A mind that 
is cheerful in its present state, will disdain to be solicitous 


36 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


any further, and can correct the bitters of life with a 
placid smile. Nothing is on all hands completely 
blessed. A premature death carried off the celebrated 
Achilles; a protracted old age wore down Tithonus; and 
time perhaps may extend to me, what it shall deny .to 
you. Around you a hundred flocks bleat, and Sicilian 
heifers low; for your use the mare, fit for harness, 
neighs; wool doubly dipped in the African purple-dye 
clothes you: on me undeceitful fate has bestowed a 
small country estate, and the slight inspiration of the 
Grecian muse, and a contempt for the malignity of the 
vulgar. 


ODE XVII. 

To Mcecenas. 

Why dost thou kill me with thy complaints? ’Tis 
neither agreeable to the gods, nor to me, that thou 
shouldest depart first, O Maecenas, thou grand ornament 
and pillar of my affairs. Alas! if an untimely blow 
hurry away thee, a part of my soul, why do I the other 
moiety remain, my value lost, nor any longer whole? 
That [fatal] day shall bring destruction upon us both. 
I have by no means taken a false oath: we will go, 
we will go, whenever thou shalt lead the way, prepared 
to be fellow-travelers in the last journey. Me nor 
the breath of the fiery Chimsera, nor hundred-handed 
Gyges, were he to rise again, shall ever tear from thee: 
such is the will of powerful Justice, and of the Fates. 
Whether Libra or malignant Scorpio had the ascendant 
at my natal hour, or Capricon the ruler of the western 
wave, our horoscopes agree in a wonderful manner. Thee 
the benign protection of Jupiter, shining with friendly 
aspect, rescued from the baleful influence of impious 
Saturn, and retarded the wings of precipitate destiny, 
at the time the crowded people with resounding ap¬ 
plauses thrice hailed you in the theater: me the trunk 
of a tree, falling upon my skull, would have dispatched, 
had not Faunus, the protector of men of genius, with 
his right hand warded off the blow. Be thou mindful 


ode xviii. xix. ODES OF HORACE 


37 


to pay the victims and the votive temple; I will sacrifice 
an humble lamb. 

ODE XVIII. 

Against Avarice and Luxury. 

Nor ivory, nor a fretted ceiling adorned with gold, 
glitters in my house: no Hymettian beams rest upon 
pillars cut out of the extreme parts of Africa; nor, a 
pretended heir, have I possessed myself of the palace 
of Attalus, nor do ladies, my dependants, spin Laconian 
purple for my use. But integrity, and a liberal vein 
of genius, are mine: and the man of fortune makes his 
court to me, who am but poor. I importune the gods 
no further, nor do I require of my friend in power 
any larger enjoyments, sufficiently happy with my Sabine 
farm alone. Day is driven on by day, and the new 
moons hasten to their wane. You put out marble to 
be hewn, though with one foot in the grave; and, un¬ 
mindful of a sepulcher, are building houses; and are 
busy to extend the shore of the sea, that beats with 
violence at Baise, not rich enough with the shore of 
the mainland. Why is it, that through avarice you even 
pluck up the landmarks of your neighbor’s ground, and 
trespass beyond the bounds of your clients; and wife 
and husband are turned out, bearing in their bosom 
their household goods and their destitute children? 
Nevertheless, no court more certainly awaits its wealthy 
lord, than the destined limit of rapacious Pluto. Why 
do you go on? The impartial earth is opened equally 
to the poor and to the sons of kings; nor has the life¬ 
guard ferryman of hell, bribed with gold, re-conducted 
the artful Prometheus. He confines proud Tantalus, 
and the race of Tantalus; he condescends, whether in¬ 
voked or not, to relieve the poor freed from their labors. 

ODE XIX. 

On Bacchus. 

(A Dithyrambic, or Drinking Song.) 

I saw Bacchus (believe it, posterity) dictating strains 
among the remote rocks, and the nymphs learning them, 


38 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


and the ears of the goat-footed satyrs all attentive. 
Evce! my mind trembles with recent dread, and my soul, 
replete with Bacchus, has a tumultuous joy, Evce! spare 
me, Bacchus; spare me, thou who art formidable for 
thy dreadful thyrsus. It is granted me to sing the 
wanton Bacchanalian priestess, and the fountain of wine, 
and rivulets flowing with milk, and to tell again of the 
honeys distilling from the hollow trunks. It is granted 
me likewise to celebrate the honor added to the constel¬ 
lations by your happy spouse, and the palace of Pen- 
theus demolished with no light ruin, and the perdition 
of Thracian Lycurgus. You command the rivers, you 
the barbarian sea. You, moist with wine, on lonely 
mountain-tops bind the nair of your Thracian priestesses 
with a knot of vipers without hurt. You, when the 
impious band of giants scaled the realms of father 
Jupiter through the sky, repelled Rhcetus, with the paws 
and horrible jaw of the lion-shape [you had assumed]. 
Thou, reported to be better fitted for dances and jokes 
and play, you were accounted insufficient for fight; yet 
it then appeared, you, the same deity, was the mediator 
of peace and war. Upon you, ornamented with your 
golden horn, Cerberus innocently gazed, gently wagging 
his tail; and with his triple tongue licked your feet 
and legs, as you returned. 


ODE XX. 

To Maecenas. 

I, a two-formed poet, will be conveyed through the 
liquid air with no vulgar or humble wing; nor will I 
loiter upon earth any longer; and superior to envy, I 
will quit cities. Not I, even I, the blood of low parents, 
my dear Maecenas, shall die; nor shall I be restrained by 
the Stygian wave. At this instant a rough skin settles 
upon my ankles, and all upwards I am transformed into 
a white bird, and the downy plumage arises over my 
fingers and shoulders. Now, a melodious bird, more ex¬ 
peditious than the Daedalean Icarus, I will visit the 
shores of the murmuring Bosphorus, and the Gaetulean. 


ODE XX. 


ODES OF HORACE 


39 


Syrtes, and the Hyperborean plains. Me the Colchian 
and the Dacian, who hides his fear of the Marsian 
cohort, and the remotest Gelonians, shall know: me the 
learned Spaniard shall study, and he that drinks of the 
Rhone. Let there be no dirges, nor unmanly lamenta¬ 
tions, nor bewailings at my imaginary funeral; sup¬ 
press your crying, and forbear the superfluous honors 
of a sepulcher. 


THE ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK THREE 


ODE I. 

On Contentment. 

I abominate the uninitiated vulgar, and keep them 
at a distance. Preserve a religious silence: I, the 
priest of the Muses, sing to virgins and boys verses 
not heard before. The dominion of dread sovereigns is 
over their own subjects; that of Jupiter, glorious for his 
conquest over the giants, who shakes all nature with 
his nod, is over sovereigns themselves. It happens that 
one man arranges trees, in regular rows, to a greater 
extent than another; this man comes down into the 
Campus [Martius] as a candidate of a better family; 
another vies with him for morals and a better reputa¬ 
tion; a third has a superior number of dependants; but 
Fate, by the impartial law of nature, is allotted both to 
the conspicuous and the obscure; the capacious urn keeps 
every name in motion. Sicilian dainties will not force 
a delicious relish to that man, over whose impious neck 
the naked sword hangs: the songs of birds and the lyre 
will not restore his sleep. Sleep disdains not the humble 
cottages and shady bank of peasants; he disdains not 
Tempe, fanned by zephyrs. Him, who desires but a 
competency, neither the tempestuous sea renders anxious, 
nor the malign violence of Arcturus setting, or of the 
rising Kid; not his vineyards beaten down with hail, and 
a deceitful farm; his plantations at one season blaming 

40 



ODE II. 


ODES OF HORACE 


41 


the rains, at another, the influence of the constellations 
parching the grounds, at another, the severe winters. 
The fishes perceive the seas contracted, by the vast foun¬ 
dations that have been laid in the deep: hither numer¬ 
ous undertakers with their men, and lords, disdainful 
of the land, send down mortar: but anxiety and the 
threats of conscience ascend by the same way as the 
possessor; nor does gloomy care depart from the brazen- 
beaked galley, and she mounts behind the horseman. 
Since then nor Phrygian marble, nor the use of purple 
more dazzling than the sun, nor the Falernian vine, nor 
the Persian nard, composes a troubled mind, why should 
I set about a lofty edifice with columns that excite envy, 
and in the modern taste? Why should I exchange my 
Sabine vale for wealth, which is attended with more 
trouble ? 


ODE II. 

Against the Degeneracy of the Roman Youth. 

Let the robust youth learn patiently to endure 
pinching want in the active exercise of arms; and as an 
expert horseman, dreadful for his spear, let him harass 
the fierce Parthians; and let him lead a life exposed 
to the open air, and familiar with dangers. Him, the 
consort and marriageable virgin-daughter of some war¬ 
ring tyrant, viewing from the hostile walls, may sigh— 
Alas! let not the affianced prince, inexperienced as he 
is in arms, provoke by a touch this terrible lion, whom 
bloody rage hurries through the midst of slaughter. It 
is sweet and glorious to die for one’s country; death 
even pursues the man that flies from him; nor does he 
spare the trembling knees of effeminate youth, nor the 
coward back. Virtue unknowing of base repulse, shines 
with immaculate honors; nor does she assume nor lay 
aside the ensigns of her dignity, at the veering of the 
popular air. Virtue, throwing open heaven to those 
who deserve not to die, directs her progress through paths 
of difficulty, and spurns with a rapid wing groveling 
cowards and the slippery earth. There is likewise a 


42 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


sure reward for faithful silence. I will prohibit that 
man, who shall have divulged the sacred rites of mys¬ 
terious Ceres, from being under the same roof with me, 
or from setting sail with me in the same fragile bark: 
for Jupiter, when slighted, often joins a good man in 
the same fate with a bad one. Seldom hath punishment, 
though lame, of foot, failed to overtake the wicked. 


ODE III. 

On Steadiness and Integrity. 

Not the rage of the people pressing to hurtful 
measures, not the aspect of a threatening tyrant can 
shake from his settled purpose the man who is just and 
determined in his resolution; nor can the south wind, 
that tumultuous ruler of the restless Adriatic, nor the 
mighty hand of thundering Jove; if a crushed world 
should call in upon him, the ruins would strike him un¬ 
dismayed. By this character Pollux, by this the wander¬ 
ing Hercules, arrived at the starry citadels; among whom 
Augustus has now taken his place, and quaffs nectar 
with empurpled lips. Thee, O father Bacchus, meritori¬ 
ous for this virtue, thy tigers carried, drawing the yoke 
with intractable neck; by this Romulus escaped Acheron 
on the horses of Mars—Juno having spoken what the 
gods in full conclave approved: “Troy, Troy, a fatal 
and lewd judge, and a foreign woman, have reduced to 
ashes, condemned, with its inhabitants and fraudulent 
prince, to me and the chaste Minerva, ever since 
Laomedon disappointed the gods of the stipulated re¬ 
ward. Now neither the infamous guest of the Lacedae¬ 
monian adulteress shines; nor does Priam’s perjured 
family repel the warlike Grecians by the aid of Hector, 
and that war, spun out to such a length by our factions, 
has sunk to peace. Henceforth, therefore, I will give 
up to Mars both my bitter resentment, and the detested 
grandson, whom the Trojan princes bore. Him will I 
suffer to enter the bright regions, to drink the juice of 
nectar, and to be enrolled among the peaceful order of 
gods. As long as the extensive sea rages between Troy 


ODE IV. 


ODES OF HORACE 


43 


and Rome, let them, exiles, reign happy in any other 
part of the world: as long as cattle trample upon the 
tomb of Priam and Paris, and wild beasts conceal their 
young ones there with impunity, may the Capitol re¬ 
main in splendor, and may brave Rome be able to give 
laws to the conquered Medes. Tremendous let her ex¬ 
tend her name abroad to the extremest boundaries of 
the earth, where the middle ocean separates Europe from 
Africa, where the swollen Nile waters the plains; more 
brave in despising gold as yet undiscovered, and so best 
situated while hidden in the earth, than in forcing it 
out for the uses of mankind, with a hand ready to make 
depredations on every thing that is sacred. Whatever 
end of the world has made resistance, that let her reach 
with her arms, joyfully alert to visit even that part 
where fiery heats rage madding; that where clouds and 
rains storm with unmoderated fury. But I pronounce 
this fate to the warlike Romans, upon this condition; that 
neither through an excess of piety, nor of confidence 
in their power, they become inclined to rebuild the houses 
of their ancestors’ Troy. The fortune of Troy, reviving 
under unlucky auspices, shall be repeated with lamentable 
destruction, I, the wife and sister of Jupiter, leading 
on the victorious bands. Thrice, if a brazen wall should 
arise by means of its founder Phoebus, thrice should it 
fall, demolished by my Grecians; thrice should the captive 
wife bewail her husband and her children.” These 
themes ill suit the merry lyre. Whither, muse, are you 
going?—Cease, impertinent, to relate the language of the 
gods, and to debase great things by your trifling 
measures. 


ODE IV. 

To Calliope. 

Descend from heaven, queen Calliope, and come sing 
with your pipe a lengthened strain; or, if you had now 
rather, with your clear voice, or on the harp or lute 
of Phoebus. Do' ye hear? or does a pleasing frenzy de¬ 
lude me? I seem to hear [her], and to wander [with 


44 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


her] along the hallowed groves, through which pleasant 
rivulets and gales make their way. Me, when a child, 
and fatigued with play, in sleep the woodland doves, 
famous in story, covered with green leaves in the 
Apulian Yultur, just without the limits of my native 
Apulia: so that it was matter of wonder to all that 
inhabit the nest of lofty Acherontia, the Bantine Forests, 
and the rich soil of low Ferentum, how I could sleep 
with my body safe from deadly vipers and ravenous 
bears; how I could be covered with sacred laurel and 
myrtle heaped together, though a child, not animated 
without the [inspiration of the] gods. Yours, O ye 
muses, I am yours, whether I am elevated to the Sabine 
heights; or whether the cool Praeneste, or the sloping 
Tibur, or the watery Baiae have delighted me. Me, 
who am attached to your fountains and dances, not the 
army put to flight at Philippi, not the execrable tree, 
nor a Palinurus in the Sicilian Sea has destroyed. While 
you shall be with me, with pleasure will I, a sailor, dare 
the raging Bosphorus; or, a traveler, the burning sands 
of the Assyrian shore: I will visit the Britons inhuman 
to strangers, and the Concanian delighted [with drink¬ 
ing] the blood of horses: I will visit the quivered 
Geloni, and the Scythian river without hurt. You en¬ 
tertained lofty Caesar, seeking to put an end to his toils, 
in the Pierian grotto, as soon as he had distributed in 
towns his troops, wearied by campaigning: you admin¬ 
ister [to him] moderate counsel, and graciously rejoice 
at it when administered. We are aware how he, who 
rules in the inactive earth and the stormy main, the 
cities also, and the dreary realms [of hell], and alone 
governs with a righteous sway both gods and the human 
multitude, how he took off the impious Titans and the 
gigantic troop by his falling thunderbolts. That horrid 
youth, trusting to the strength of their arms, and the 
brethren proceeding to place Pelion upon shady Olympus, 
had brought great dread [even] upon Jove. But what 
could Typhoeus, and the strong Mimas, or what Por- 
phyrion with his menacing stature; what Rhcetus, and 
Enceladus, a fierce darter with trees uptorn, avail, 
though rushing violently against the sounding shield of 
Pallas? At one part stood the eager Vulcan, at another 


ODE V. 


ODES OF HORACE 


45 


the matron Juno, and he, who is never desirious to lay 
aside his bow from his shoulders, Apollo, the god of 
Delos and Patara, who bathes his flowing hair in the 
pure dew of Castalia, and possesses the groves of Lycia 
and his native wood. Force, void of conduct, falls by 
its own weight; moreover, the gods promote discreet 
force to further advantage; but the same beings detest 
forces, that meditate every kind of impiety. The hun¬ 
dred-handed Gyges is an evidence of the sentiments I 
allege: and Orion, the tempter of the spotless Diana, 
destroyed by a virgin dart. The earth, heaped over 
her own monsters, grieves and laments her offspring, 
sent to murky Hades by a thunderbolt; nor does the 
active fire consume iEtna that is placed over it, nor does 
the vulture desert the liver of incontinent Tityus, being 
stationed there as an avenger of his baseness; and three 
hundred chains confine the amorous Pirithoiis. 


ODE Y. 

On the Recovery of the Standards from Phraates. 

We believe from his thundering that Jupiter has 
dominion in the heavens: Augustus shall be esteemed a 
present deity, the Britons and terrible Parthians being 
added to the empire. What! has any soldier of Crassus 
lived, a degraded husband with a barbarian wife? And 
has (O [corrupted] senate, and degenerate morals!) the 
Marsian and Apulian, unmindful of the sacred bucklers, 
of the [Roman] name and gown, and of eternal Yesta, 
grown old in the lands of hostile fathers-in-law, Jupiter 
and the city being in safety? The prudent mind of 
Regulus had provided against this, dissenting from 
ignominious terms, and inferring from such a precedent 
destruction to the succeeding age, if the captive youth 
were not to perish unpitied. I have beheld, said he, the 
Roman standards affixed to the Carthaginian temples, 
and their arms taken away from our soldiers without 
bloodshed. I have beheld the arms of our citizens bound 
behind their free-born backs, and the gates [of an 
enemy] unshut, and the fields, which were depopulated 


46 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


by our battles, cultivated anew. The soldier, to be sure, 
ransomed by gold, will return a braver fellow!—No— 
you add loss to infamy; [for] neither does the'wool 
once stained by the dye of the sea-weed ever resume 
its lost color; nor does genuine valor, when once it has 
failed, care to resume its place in those who have de¬ 
generated through cowardice. If the hind, disentangled 
from the thick-set toils, ever fights, then indeed shall he 
be valorous, who has intrusted himself to faithless foes; 
and he shall trample upon the Carthaginians in a second 
war, who dastardly has felt the thongs with his arms 
tied behind him, and has been afraid of death. He, 
knowing no other way to preserve his life, has con¬ 
founded peace with war. O scandal! O mighty Carthage, 
elevated to a higher pitch by Italy’s disgraceful down¬ 
fall! He ( Regulus ) is reported to have rejected the 
embrace of his virtuous wife and his little sons like one 
degraded; and to have sternly fixed his manly counte¬ 
nance on the ground, until, as an adviser, by his counsel 
he confirmed the wavering senators, and amid his weep¬ 
ing friends hastened away, a glorious exile. Notwith¬ 
standing he knew what the barbarian executioner was 
providing for him, yet he pushed from his opposing 
kindred and the populace' retarding his return, in no 
other manner, than if (after he had quitted the tedious 
business of his clients, by determining their suit) he 
was only going to the Venafrian plains, or the Lace¬ 
daemonian Tarentum. 


ODE YI. 

To the Romans. 

Thou shalt atone, O Roman, for the sins of your 
ancestors, though innocent, till you shall have repaired 
the temples and tottering shrines of the gods, and their 
statues, defiled with sooty smoke. Thou holdest sway, 
because thou bearest thyself subordinate to the gods; 
to this source refer every undertaking; to this, every 
event. The gods, because neglected, have inflicted many 
evils on calamitous Italy. Already has Monaeses, and 


ODE VII. 


ODES OF HORACE 


47 


the band of Pacorus, twice repelled our inauspicious 
attacks, and exults in having added the Roman spoils 
to their trivial collars. The Dacian and ^Ethiopian have 
almost demolished the city engaged in civil broils, the 
one formidable for his fleet, the other more expert for 
missile arrows. The times, fertile in wickedness, have 
in the first place polluted the marriage state, and 
[thence] the issue and families. From this fountain per¬ 
dition being derived, has overwhelmed the nation and 
people. The marriageable virgin delights to be taught 
the Ionic dances, and even at this time is trained up in 
[seductive] arts, and cherishes unchaste desires from 
her very infancy. Soon after she courts younger de¬ 
bauchees when her husband is in his cups, nor has she 
any choice, to whom she shall privately grant her for¬ 
bidden pleasures when the lights are removed, but at the 
word of command, openly, not without the knowledge 
of her husband, she will come forth, whether it be a 
factor that calls for her, or the captain of a Spanish 
ship, the extravagant purchaser of her disgrace. It 
was not a youth born from parents like these, that 
stained the sea with Carthaginian gore, and slew 
Pyrrhus, and mighty Antiochus, and terrific Annibal; but 
a manly progeny of rustic soldiers, instructed to turn 
the glebe with Sabine spades, and to carry clubs cut 
[out of the woods] at the pleasure of a rigid mother, 
what time the sun shifted the shadows of the mountains, 
and took the yokes from the wearied oxen, bringing on 
the pleasant hour with his retreating chariot. What does 
not wasting time destroy? The age of our fathers, worse 
than our grandsires, produced us still more flagitious, us, 
who are about to produce an offspring more vicious 
[even than ourselves]. 


ODE VII. 

To Asterie. 

Why, O Asterie, do you weep for Gyges, a youth of 
inviolable constancy, whom the kindly zephyrs will re¬ 
store to you in the beginning of the spring, enriched 


48 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


with a Bithynian cargo? Driven as far as Oricum by 
the southern winds, after [the rising] of the Goat’s 
tempestuous constellation, he sleepless passes the cold 
nights in abundant weeping [for you]; but the agent 
of his anxious landlady slyly tempts him by a thousand 
methods, informing him that [his mistress], Chloe, is 
sighing for him, and burns with the same love that thou 
hast for him. He remonstrates with him how a per¬ 
fidious woman urged the credulous Proetus, by false 
accusations, to hasten the death of the over-chaste 
Bellerophon. He tells how Peleus was like to have been 
given up to the infernal regions, while out of temperance 
he avoided the Magnesian Hippolyte: and the deceiver 
quotes histories to him, that are lessons for sinning. In 
vain; for, heart-whole as yet, he receives his words deafer 
than the Icarian rocks. But with regard to you, have 
a care lest your neighbor Enipeus prove too pleasing. 
Though no other person equally skillful to guide the 
steed is conspicuous in the course, nor does any one 
with equal swiftness swim down the Etrurian stream, 
yet secure your house at the very approach of night, nor 
look down into the streets at the sound of the doleful 
pipe; and remain inflexible toward him, though he often 
upbraid thee with cruelty. 


ODE VIII. 

To Maecenas. 

O Maecenas, learned in both languages, you wonder 
what I, a single man, have to do on the calends of 
March; what these flowers mean, and the censer replete 
with frankincense, and the coals laid upon the live turf. 
I made a vow of a joyous banquet, and a white goat 
to Bacchus, after having been at the point of death 
by a blow from a tree. This day, sacred in the re¬ 
volving year, shall remove the cork fastened with pitch 
from that jar, which was set to inhale the smoke in the 
consulship of Tullus. Take, my Maecenas, a hundred 
cups on account of the safety of your friend, and con¬ 
tinue the wakeful lamps even to day-light: all clamor 


ODE IX. 


ODES OF HORACE 


49 


and passion be far away. Postpone your political cares 
with regard to the state; the army of the Dacian Cotison 
is defeated; the troublesome Mede is quarreling with 
himself in a horrible [civil] war: the Cantabrian, our 
old enemy on the Spanish coast, is subject to us, though 
conquered by a long-disputed victory: now, too, the 
Scythians are preparing to quit the field with their 
unbent bows. Neglectful, as a private person, forbear 
to be solicitous lest the community in any wise suffer, 
and joyfully seize the boons of the present hour, and 
quit serious affairs. 


ODE IX. 

To Lydia. 

Horace. As long as I was agreeable to thee, and 
no other youth more favored was wont to fold his arms 
around thy snowy neck, I lived happier than the Persian 
monarch. 

Lydia. As long as thou hadst not a greater flame for 
any other, nor was Lydia below Chloe [in thine affec¬ 
tions], I Lydia, of distinguished fame, flourished more 
eminent than the Roman Ilia. 

Hor. The Thracian Chloe now commands me, skillful 
in sweet modulations, and a mistress of the lyre; for 
whom I would not dread to die, if the fates would spare 
her, my surviving soul. 

Lyd. Calais, the son of the Thurian Ornitus, inflames 
me with a mutual fire; for whom I would 'twice endure 
to die, if the fates would spare my surviving youth. 

Hor. What! if our former love returns, and unites 
by a brazen yoke us once parted? What if Chloe with 
her golden locks be shaken off, and the door, again open 
to slighted Lydia. 

Lyd. Though he is fairer than a star, thou of more 
levity than a cork, and more passionate than the bluster¬ 
ing Adriatic; with thee I should love to live, with thee 
I would cheerfully die. 


50 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


ODE X. 
To Lyce. 


O Lyce, had you drunk from the remote Tanais, in 
a state of marriage with some barbarian, yet you might 
be sorry to expose me, prostrate before your obdurate 
doors, to the north winds that have made those places 
their abode. Do you hear with what a noise your gate, 
with what [a noise] the grove, planted about your 
elegant buildings, rebellows to the winds? And how 
Jupiter glazes the settled snow with his bright influence? 
Lay aside disdain, offensive to Venus, lest your rope 
should run backward, while the wheel is revolving. Your 
Tyrrhenian father did not beget you to be as inacces¬ 
sible as Penelope to your wooers. O though neither 
presents, nor prayers, nor the violet-tinctured paleness 
of your lovers, nor your husband smitten with a musical 
courtezan, bend you to pity; yet [at length] spare your 
suppliants, you that are not softer than the sturdy oak, 
nor of a gentler disposition than the African serpents. 
This side [of mine] will not always be able to endure 
your threshold, and the rain. 


ODE XI; 

To Mercury. 

O Mercury, for under thy instruction the ingenious 
Amphion moved rocks by his voice, you being his tutor; 
and though my harp skilled in sounding, with seven 
strings, formerly neither vocal nor pleasing, but now 
agreeable both to the tables of the wealth and the 
temples [of the gods]; dictate measures to which Lyde 
may incline her obstinate ears, who, like a filly of three 
years old, plays and frisks about in the spacious fields, 
inexperienced in nuptial loves, and hitherto unripe for 
a brisk husband. You are able to draw after you tigers 
and ^attendant woods, and to retard rapid rivers. To 
your*blandishments the enormous porter of the [infernal] 


ODE XII. 


ODES OF HORACE 


51 


palace yielded, though a hundred serpents fortify his 
head, and a pestilential steam and an infectious poison 
issue from his triple-tongued mouth. Moreover, Ixion 
and Tityus smiled with a reluctant aspect; while you 
soothe the daughters of Danaus with your delightful 
harmony, their vessel for some time remained dry. Let 
Lyde hear of the crime, and the well-known punishment 
of the virgins, and the cask emptied by the water 
streaming through the bottom, and what lasting fates 
await their misdeeds even beyond the grave. Impious! 
(for what greater impiety could they have committed?) 
Impious! who could destroy their bridegrooms with the 
cruel sword! One out of the many, worthy of the 
nuptial torch, was nobly false to her perjured parent, 
and a maiden illustrious to all posterity; she, who said 
to her youthful husband, “Arise! arise! lest an eternal 
sleep be given to you from a hand you have no suspicion 
of; disappoint your father-in-law and my wicked sisters, 
who, like lionesses having possessed themselves of calves 
(alas)! tear each of them to pieces; I, of softer mold 
than they, will neither strike thee, nor detain thee in my 
custody. Let my father load me with cruel chains, 
because out of mercy I spared my unhappy spouse; let 
him transport me even to the extreme Numidian plains. 
Depart, whither your feet and the winds carry you, 
while the night and Venus are favorable: depart with 
happy omen; yet, not forgetful of me, engrave my 
mournful story on my tomb.” 


ODE XII. 

To Neobule. 

It is for unhappy maidens neither to give indulgence 
to love, nor to wash away cares with delicious wine; 
or to be dispirited out of dread of the lashes of an 
uncle’s tongue. The winged boy of Venus, O Neobule, 
has deprived you of your spindle and your webs, and 
the beauty of Hebrus from Lipara of inclination for 
the labors of industrious Minerva, after he has bathed 
his anointed shoulders in the waters of the Tiber; a 


52 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


better horseman than Bellerophon himself, neither con¬ 
quered at boxing, nor by want of swiftness in the race: 
he is also skilled to strike with his javelin the stags 
flying through the open plains in frightened herd, and 
active to surprise the wild-boar lurking in the deep 
thicket. 


ODE XIII. 

To the Bandusian Fountain. 

O thou fountain of Bandusia, clearer than glass, 
worthy of delicious wine, not unadorned by flowers; 
to-morrow thou shalt be presented with a kid, whose 
forehead, pouting with new horns, determines upon both 
love and war in vain; for this offspring of the wanton 
flock shall tinge thy cooling streams with scarlet blood. 
The severe season of the burning dog-star can not 
reach thee; thou affordest a refreshing coolness to the 
oxen fatigued with the plow-share, and to the ranging 
flock. Thou also shalt become one of the famous foun¬ 
tains, through my celebrating the oak that covers the 
hollow rock, whence thy prattling rills descend with a 
bound. 


ODE XIV. 

To the Romans. 

Augustus Caesar, O ye people who was lately said, 
like another Hercules, to have sought for the laurel to 
be purchased only by death, revisits his domestic gods, 
victorious from the Spanish shore. Let the matron 
( Livia ), to whom her husband alone is dear, come forth 
in public procession, having first performed her duty to 
the just gods; and ( Octavia ), the sister of our glorious 
general; the mothers also of the maidens and of the 
youths just preserved from danger, becomingly adorned 
with supplicatory fillets. Ye, O young men, and young 
women- lately married, abstain from ill-omened words. 


ODE XV. XVI. 


ODES OF HORACE 


53 


This day, to me a real festival, shall expel gloomy cares: 
I will neither dread commotions, nor violent death, while 
Caesar is in possession of the earth. Go, slave, and 
seek for perfume and chaplets, and a cask that remem¬ 
bers the Marsian war, if any vessel could elude the 
vagabond Spartacus. And bid the tuneful Neaera make 
haste to collect into a knot her auburn hair; but if any 
delay should happen from the surly porter, come away. 
Hoary hair mollifies minds that are fond of strife and 
petulant wrangling. I would not have endured this 
treatment, warm with youth in the consulship of 
Plancus. 


ODE XV. 

To Chloris. 

You wife of the indigent Ibycus, at length put an 
end to your wickedness, and your infamous practices. 
Cease to sport among the damsels, and to diffuse a cloud 
among bright constellations, now on the verge of a 
timely death. If any thing will become Pholoe, it does 
not you Chloris, likewise. Your daughter with more 
propriety attacks the young men’s apartments, like a 
Bacchanalian roused up by the rattling timbrel. The 
love of Nothus makes her frisk about like a wanton she- 
goat. The wool shorn near the famous Luceria becomes 
you now antiquated: not musical instruments, or the 
damask flower of the rose, or hogsheads drunk down 
to the lees. 


ODE XVI. 

To Mcecenas. 

A brazen tower, and doors of oak, and the melancholy 
watch of wakeful dogs, had sufficiently defended the 
imprisoned Danae from midnight gallants, had not 
Jupiter and Venus laughed at Acrisius, the anxious keeper 
of the immured maiden: [for they well knew] that the 


54 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III, 


way would be safe and open, after the god had trans¬ 
formed himself into a bribe. Gold delights to penetrate 
through the midst of guards, and to break through stone¬ 
walls, more potent than the thunderbolt. The family 
of the Grecian augur perished, immersed in destruction 
on account of lucre. The man of Macedon cleft the gates 
of the cities and subverted rival monarchs by bribery. 
Bribes enthrall fierce captains of ships. Care, and a 
thirst for greater things, is the consequence of increas¬ 
ing wealth. Therefore, Maecenas, thou glory of the 
[Roman] knights, I have justly dreaded to raise the 
far-conspicuous head. As much more any man shall 
deny himself, so much more shall he receive from the 
gods. Naked as I am, I seek the camps of those who 
covet nothing, and as a deserter, rejoice to quit the side 
of the wealthy: a more illustrious possessor of a con- 
temtible fortune, than if I could be said to treasure up 
in my granaries all that the industrious Apulian culti¬ 
vates, poor amid abundance of wealth. A rivulet of 
clear water, and a wood of a few acres, and a certain 
prospect of my good crop, are blessings unknown to him 
who glitters in the proconsulship of fertile -Africa: I 
am more happily circumstanced. Though neither the 
Calabrian bees produce honey, nor wine ripens to age for 
me in a Formian cask, nor rich fleeces increases in Gallic 
pastures,- yet distressful poverty is remote; nor, if I 
desired more, would you refuse to grant it me. I shall 
be better able to extend my small revenues, by contracting 
my desires, than if I could join the kingdom of Alyattes 
to the Phrygian plains. Much is wanting to those who 
covet much. ’Tis well with him to whom God has given 
what is necessary with a sparing hand. 


ODE XVII. 

To JElius Lamia. 

O iElius, who art nobly descended from the ancient 
Lamus (forasmuch as they report, that both the first 
of the Lamian family had their name hence, and all the 
race of the descendants through faithful records derives 


ode xviii. xix. ODES OF HORACE 


55 


its origin from that founder, who is said to have pos¬ 
sessed, as prince, the Formian walls, and Liris gliding 
on the shores of Marcia—an extensive potentate). To¬ 
morrow a tempest sent from the east shall strew the 
grove with many leaves, and the shore with useless sea¬ 
weed, unless that old prophetess of rain, the raven, de? 
ceives me. Pile up the dry wood, while you may; 
to-morrow you shall indulge your genius with wine, and 
with a pig of two months old, with your slaves dis¬ 
missed from their labors. 

ODE XVIII. 

To Faunus. 

(A Hymn.) 

O Faunus, thou lover of the flying nymphs, benignly 
traverse my borders and sunny fields, and depart propi¬ 
tious to the young offspring of my flocks; if a tender 
kid fall [a victim] to thee at the completion of the 
year, and plenty of wines be not wanting to the goblet, 
the companion of Venus, and the ancient altar smoke with 
liberal perfume. All the cattle sport in the grassy plain, 
when the nones of December return to thee; the village 
keeping holiday enjoys leisure in the fields, together 
with the oxen free from toil. The wolf wanders among 
the fearless lambs; the wood scatters its rural leaves 
for thee, and the laborer rejoices to have beaten the 
hated ground in triple dance. 

ODE XIX. 

To Telephus. 

How far Codrus, who was not afraid to die for his 
country, is removed from Inachus, and the race of 
iEacus, and the battles also that were fought at sacred 
Troy—[these subjects] you descant upon; but at what 
price we may purchase a hogshead of Chian; who shall 
warm the water [for bathing]; who finds a house: and 
at what hour I am to get rid of these Pelignian colds, 


56 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


you are silent. Give me, boy, [a bumper] for the new 
moon in an instant, give me one for midnight, and one 
for Murena the augur. Let our goblets be mixed up 
with three or nine cups, according to every one’s dis¬ 
position. The enraptured bard, who delights in the 
odd-numbered muses, shall call for brimmers thrice 
three. Each of the Graces, in conjunction with the 
naked sisters, fearful of broils, prohibits upward of 
three. It is my pleasure to rave; why cease the breath¬ 
ings of the Phrygian flute? Why is the pipe hung up 
with the silent lyre? I hate your niggardly handfuls: 
strew roses freely. Let the envious Lycus hear the 
jovial noise; and let our fair neighbor, ill-suited to the 
old Lycus [hear it]. The ripe Rhode aims at thee, 
Telephus, smart with thy bushy locks; at thee, bright 
as the clear evening star; the love of my Glycera slowly 
consumes me. 


ODE XX. 

To Pyrrhus. 

Do you not perceive, O Pyrrhus, at what hazard you 
are taking away the whelps from a Gutulian lioness? 
In a little while you, a timorous ravisher, shall fly from 
the severe engagement, when she shall march through 
the opposing band of youths, re-demanding her beauteous 
Nearchus; a grand contest, whether a greater share of 
booty shall fall to thee or to her! In the meantime, 
while you produce your swift arrows, she whets her 
terrific teeth; while the umpire of the combat is reported 
to have placed the palm under his naked foot, and re¬ 
freshed his shoulder, overspread with his perfumed locks, 
with the gentle breeze: just such another was Nireus, 
or he that was ravished from the watery Ida. 

ODE XXI. 

- To His Jar. 

O thou goodly cask, that wast brought to light at the 
same time with me in the consulship of Manlius, whether 


ode xxii. xxiii. ODES OF HORACE 


57 


thou containest the occasion of complaint, or jests, or 
broils and maddening armours, or gentle sleep; under 
whatever title thou preservest the choice Massic, worthy 
to be removed on an auspicious day; descend, Corvinus 
bids me draw the mellowest wine. He, though he is 
imbued in the Socratic lectures, will not morosely reject 
thee. The virtue even of old Cato is recorded to have 
been frequently warmed with wine. Thou appliest a 
gentle violence to that disposition, which is in general 
of the rougher cast. Thou revealest the cares and secret 
designs of the wise, by the assistance of merry Bacchus. 
You restore hope and spirit to anxious minds, and give 
horns to the poor man, who after [tasting] you neither 
dreads the diadems of enraged monarchs, nor the weapons 
of the soldiers. Thee Bacchus, and Venus, if she comes 
in good-humor, and the Graces loth to dissolve the knot 
[of their union], and living lights shall prolong, till 
returning Phoebus puts the stars to flight. 


ODE XXII. 

To Diana. 

O virgin, protectress of the mountains and the groves, 
thou three-formed goddess, who thrice invoked, hearest 
young women in labor, and savest them from death; 
sacred to thee be this pine that overshadows my villa, 
which I, at the completion of every year, joyful will 
present with the blood of a boar-pig, just meditating 
his oblique attack. 


ODE XXIII. 

To Phidyle. 

My rustic Phidyle, if you raise your suppliant hands 
to heaven at the new moon, and appease the household 
gods with frankincense, and this year’s fruits, and a 
ravening swine; the fertile vine shall neither feel the 
pestilential south.-west, nor the eorn the barren blight, 


58 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


or your dear brood the sickly season in the fruit-bearing 
autumn. For the destined victim, which is pastured in 
the snowy Algidus among the oaks and holm trees, or 
thrives in the Albanian meadows, with its throat shall 
stain the axes of the priests. It is not required of you, 
who are crowning our little gods with rosemary and the 
brittle myrtle, to propitiate them with a great slaughter 
of sheep. If an innocent hand touches a clear, a mag¬ 
nificent victim does not pacify the offended Penates more 
acceptably, than a consecrated cake and crackling salt. 


ODE XXIV. 

To the Covetous. 

Though, more wealthy than the unrifled treasures of 
the Arabians and rich India, you should possess yourself 
by your edifices of the whole Tyrrhenian and Apulian 
seas; yet, if cruel fate fixes its adamantine grapples 
upon the topmost roofs, you shall not disengage your 
mind from dread, nor your life from the snares of death. 
The Scythians that dwell in the plains, whose carts, ac¬ 
cording to their custom, draw their vagrant habitations, 
live in a better manner; and [so do] the rough Getse, 
whose uncircumscribed acres produce fruits and corn free 
to all, nor is a longer than annual tillage agreeable, and 
a successor relieves him who has accomplished his labor 
by an equal right. There the guiltless wife spares her 
motherless step-children, nor does, the portioned spouse 
govern her husband, or put any confidence in a sleek 
adulterer. Their dower is the high virtue of their 
parents, and a chastity reserved from any other man 
by a steadfast security; and it is forbidden to sin, or 
the reward is death. O if there be any one willing 
to remove our impious slaughters, and civil rage; if he 
be desirous to be written father of the state, on 
statues [erected to him], let him dare to curb insuper¬ 
able licentiousness, and be eminent to posterity; since 
we (O injustice!) detest virtue while living, but in¬ 
vidiously seek for her after she is taken out of our 
view. To what purpose are our woeful complaints, if 


ODE XXV. 


ODES OF HORACE 


59 


sin is not cut off with punishment? Of what efficacy 
are empty laws, without morals; if neither that part of 
the world which is shut in by fervent heats, nor that side 
which borders upon Boreas, and snows hardened upon 
the ground, keep off the merchant; [and] the expert 
sailors get the better of the horrible seas? Poverty, a 
great reproach, impels us both to do and to suffer any 
thing, and deserts the path of difficult virtue. Let us, 
then, cast our gems and precious stones and useless gold, 
the cause of extreme evil, either into the Capitol, whither 
the acclamations and crowd of applauding [citizens] call 
us, or into the adjoining ocean. If we are truly penitent 
for our enormities, the very elements of depraved lust are 
to be erased, and the minds of too soft a mold should 
be formed by severer studies. The noble youth knows 
not how to keep his seat on horseback and is afraid to 
go a hunting, more skilled to play (if you choose it) 
with the Grecian trochus, or dice, prohibited by law; 
while the father’s perjured faith can deceive his partner 
and friend, and he hastens to get money for an unworthy 
heir. In a word, iniquitous wealth increases, yet some¬ 
thing is ever wanting to the incomplete fortune. 


ODE XXV. 

To Bacchus. 

(A Dithyrambic.) 

Whither, O Bacchus, art thou hurrying me, replete 
with your influence? Into what groves, into what re¬ 
cesses am I driven, actuated with uncommon spirit? In 
what caverns, meditating the immortal honor of illus¬ 
trious Cajsar, shall I be heard enrolling him among the 
stars and the council of Jove? I will utter something 
extraordinary, new, hitherto unsung by any other voice. 
Thus the sleepless Bacchanal is struck with enthusiasm, 
casting her eyes upon Hebrus, and Thrace bleached with 
snow and Rhodope traversed by the feet of barbarians. 
How’am I delighted in my rambles, to admire the rocks 
and the desert grove! O lord of the Naiads and the 


60 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


Bacchanalian women, who are able with their hands to 
overthrow lofty ash-tress, nothing little, nothing low, 
nothing mortal will I sing. Charming is the hazard, O 
Bacchus, to accompany the god, who binds his temples 
with the verdant vine-leaf. 


ODE XXVI. 

To Venus. 

I lately lived a proper person for girls, and cam¬ 
paigned it not without honor; but now this wall, which 
guards the left side of [the statue] of sea-born Venus, 
shall have my arms and my lyre discharged from war¬ 
fare. Here, here, deposit the shining flambeaux, and 
the wrenching irons, and the bows, that threatened the 
resisting doors. O thou goddess, who possessest the 
blissful Cyprus, and Memphis free from Sithonian snow, 
O queen, give the haughty Chloe one cut with your high- 
raised lash. 


ODE XXVII. 

To Galatea, Upon Her Going to Sea. 

Let the omen of the noisy screech-owl and a pregnant 
bitch, or a tawny wolf running down from the Lanuvian 
fields, or a fox with whelp conduct the impious [on 
their way]; may the serpent also break their undertaken 
journey, if, like an arrow athwart the road, it has fright¬ 
ened the horses. What shall I, a provident augur, 
fear? I will invoke from the east, with my prayers, 
the raven foreboding by his croaking, before^ the bird 
which presages impending showers, revisits the stag¬ 
nant pools. Mayest thou be happy, O Galatea, whereso¬ 
ever thou choosest to reside, and live mindful of me: 
and neither the unlucky pye nor the vagrant crow for¬ 
bids your going on. But you see, with what an uproar 
the prone Orion hastens on: I know what the dark bay 
of the Adriatic is, and in what manner Iapyx, [seem- 



ODE XXVII. 


ODES OF HORACE 


61 


ingly] serene, is guilty. Let the wives and children of 
our enemies feel the blind tumults of the rising south, 
and the roaring of the blackened sea, and the shores 
trembling with its lash. Thus too Europa trusted her 
fair side to the deceitful bull, and bold as she was, 
turned pale at the sea abounding with monsters, and 
the cheat now become manifest. She, who lately in the 
meadows was busied about flowers, and a composer of 
the chaplet meet for nymphs, saw nothing in the dusky 
night but stars and water. Who as soon as she arrived 
at Crete, powerful with its hundred cities, cried out, 
overcome with rage, ‘ 1 0 father, name abandoned by 
thy daughter! O my duty! Whence, whither am I 
come? One death is too little for virgins’ crime. Am 
I awake, while I deplore my base offense; or does some 
vain phantom, which, escaping from the ivory gate, 
brings on a dream, impose upon me, still free from 
guilt? Was it better to travel over the tedious waves, or 
to gather the fresh flowers? If any one now would de¬ 
liver up to me in my anger this infamous bull, I would 
do my utmost to tear him to pieces with steel, and break 
off the horns of the monster, lately so much beloved. 
Abandoned I have left my father’s house, abandoned I 
procrastinate my doom. O if any of the gods hear this, 
I wish I may wander naked among lions: before foul 
decay seizes my comely cheeks, and moisture leaves this 
tender prey, I desire, in all my beauty, to be the food 
of tigers.” “Base Europa,” thy absent father urges, 
“why do you hesitate to die? you may strangle your 
neck suspended from this ash, with your girdle that 
has commodiously attended you. Or if a precipice, and 
the rocks that are edged with death, please you, come 
on, commit yourself to the rapid storm; unless you, that 
are of blood-royal, had rather card your mistress’s wool, 
and be given up as a concubine to some barbarian 
dame.” As she complained, the treacherously-smiling 
Venus, and her son, with his bow relaxed, drew near. 
Presently, when she had sufficiently rallied her, ‘ 1 Refrain 
(she cried) from your rage and passionate chidings, since 
this detested bull shall surrender his horns to be torn 
in pieces by you. Are you ignorant, that you are the 
wife of the invincible Jove? Cease your sobbing; learn 


G2 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


duly to support your distinguished good fortune. A 
division of the world shall bear your name.” 


ODE XXVIII. 

To Lyde. 

What can I do better on the festal day of Neptune? 
Quickly produce, Lyde, the hoarded Caecuban, and make 
an attack upon wisdom, ever on her guard. You per¬ 
ceive the noontide is on its decline; and yet, as if the 
fleeting day stood still, you delay to bring out of the 
store-house the loitering cask, [that bears its date] from 
the consul Bibulus. We will sing by turns, Neptune, 
and the green locks of the Nereids; you shall chant, on 
your wreathed lyre, Latona and the darts of the nimble 
Cynthia; at the conclusion of your song, she also [shall 
be celebrated], who with her yoked swans visits Gnidos, 
and the shining Cyclades, and Paphos: the night also 
shall be celebrated in a suitable lay. 


ODE XXIX. 

To Mcecenas. 

O Maecenas, thou progeny of Tuscan kings, there has 
been a long while for you in my house some mellow wine 
in an unbroached hogshead, with rose-flowers and ex¬ 
pressed essence for your hair. Disengage yourself from 
any thing that may retard you, nor contemplate the ever 
marshy Tibur, and the sloping fields of iEsula, and the 
hills of Telegonus the parricide. Leave abundance, which 
is the source of daintiness, and yon pile of buildings ap¬ 
proaching near the lofty clouds: cease to admire the 
smoke, and opulence, and noise of flourishing Rome. 
A change is frequently agreeable to the rich, and a 
cleanly meal in the little cottage of the poor has 
smoothed an anxious brow without carpets or purple. 
Now the bright father of Andromeda displays his hidden 
fire; now Procyon rages, and the constellation of the 


ODE XXIX. 


ODES OF HORACE 


63 


ravening Lion, as the sun brings round the thirsty season. 
Now the weary shepherd with his languid flock seeks 
the shade, and the river, and the thickets of rough 
Sylvanus; and the silent bank is free from the wander¬ 
ing winds. You regard what constitution may suit the 
state, and are in an anxious dread for Rome, what 
preparations the Seres and the Bactrians subject to 
Gyrus, and the factious Tanais are making. A wise 
deity shrouds in obscure darkness the events of the 
time to come, and smiles if a mortal is solicitous beyond 
the law of nature. Be mindful to manage duly that 
which is present. What remains goes on in the manner 
of the river, at one time calmly gliding in the middle 
of its channel to the Tuscan Sea, at another, rolling 
along corroded stones, and stumps of trees forced away, 
and cattle, and houses, not without the noise of moun¬ 
tains and neighboring woods, when the merciless deluge 
enrages the peaceful waters. That man is master of 
himself and shall live happy, who has it in hie power 
to say, il I have lived to-day: to-morrow let the sire 
invest the heaven, either with a black cloud, or with 
clear sunshine; nevertheless he shall not render ineffec¬ 
tual what is past, nor undo or annihilate what the 
fleeting hour has once carried off. Fortune, happy in 
the execution of her cruel office, and persisting to play 
her insolent game, changes uncertain honors, indulgent 
now to me, by and by to another. I praise her, while 
she abides by me. If she moves her fleet wings, I re¬ 
sign what she has bestowed, and wrap myself up in my 
virtue, and court honest poverty without a portion. It 
is no business of mine, if the mast groan with the 
African storms, to have recourse to piteous prayers, and 
to make a bargain with my vows, that my Cyprian and 
Syrian merchandize may not add to the wealth of the 
insatiable sea. Then the gale and the twin Pollux will 
carry me safe in the protection of a skiff with two 
oars, through the tumultuous iEgean Sea.” 


64 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK III. 


ODE XXX. 

On His Own Works. 

I have completed a monument more lasting than brass, 
and more sublime than the regal elevation of pyramids, 
which neither the wasting shower, the unavailing north 
wind, nor an innumerable succession of years, and the 
flight of seasons, shall be able to demolish. I shall not 
wholly die; but a great part of me shall escape Libitina. 
I shall continually be renewed in the praises of posterity, 
as long as the priest shall ascend the Capitol with the 
silent [vestal] virgin. Where the rapid Aufidus shall 
murmur, and where Daunus, poorly supplied with water, 
ruled over a rustic people, I, exalted from a low degree, 
shall be acknowledged as having originally adapted the 
iEolic verse to Italian measures. Melpomene, assume 
that pride which your merits have acquired, and will¬ 
ingly crown my hair with the Delphic laurel. 


THE ODES OE HORACE 


BOOK FOUR 


ODE I. 

To Venus. 

After a long cessation, O Yenns, again are von stir¬ 
ring up tumults? Spare me, I beseech you, I beseech 
you. I am not the man I was under the dominion of 
good-natured Cynara. Forbear, O cruel mother of soft 
desires, to bend one bordering upon fifty, now too 
hardened for soft commands: go, whither the soothing 
prayers of youth, invoke you. More seasonably may 
you revel in the house of Paulus Maximus, flying thither 
with your splendid swan, if you seek to inflame a suit¬ 
able breast. For he is both* noble and comely, and by 
no means silent in the cause of distressed defendants, 
and a youth of a hundred accomplishments; he shall 
bear the ensigns of your warfare far and wide; and 
whenever, more prevailing than the ample presents of 
a rival, he shall laugh [at his expense], he shall erect 
thee in marble under a citron dome near the Alban lake. 
There you shall smell abundant frankincense, and shall 
be charmed with the mixed music of the lyre and 
Berecvnthian pipe, not without the flageolet. There 
the youths, together with the tender maidens, twice a 
day celebrating your divinity, shall. Salian-like, with 
white foot thrice ‘shake the ground. As for me. neither 
woman, nor youth, nor the fond hopes of mutual in¬ 
clination, nor‘to contend in wine, nor to bind my temples 

65 



66 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK IV. 


with fresh flowers, delight me [any longer]. But why; 
ah! why, Ligurinus, does the tear every now and then 
trickle down my cheeks? Why does my fluent tongue 
falter between my words with an unseemly silence? 
Thee in my dreams by night I clasp, caught [in my 
arms]; thee flying across the turf of the Campus Mar- 
tius; thee I pursue, O cruel one, through the rolling 
waters. 


ODE II. 

To Antonins lulus. 

Whoever endeavors, O lulus, to rival Pindar, makes 
an effort on wings fastened with wax by art Daedalean, 
about to communicate his name to the glassy sea. 
Like a river pouring down from a mountain, which 
sudden rains have increased beyond its accustomed 
banks, such the deep-mouthed Pindar rages and rushes 
on immeasurable, sure to merit Apollo’s laurel, whether 
he rolls down new-formed phrases through the daring 
dithyrambic, and is borne on in numbers exempt from 
rule: whether he sings the gods, and kings, the offspring 
of the gods, by whom the Centaurs perished with a 
just destruction, [by whom] was quenched the flame of 
the dreadful Chimsera; or celebrates those whom the 
palm, [in the Olympic games] at Elis, brings home 
exalted to the skies, wrestler or steed, and presents them 
with a gift preferable to a hundred statues: or deplores 
some youth, snatched [by death] from his mournful 
bride—he elevates both his strength, and courage, and 
golden morals to the stars, and rescues him from the 
murky grave. A copious gale elevates the Dircean swan, 
O Antonius, as often as he soars into the lofty regions 
of the clouds: but I, after the custom and manner of the 
Matinian bee, that laboriously gathers the grateful thyme, 
I, a diminutive creature, compose elaborate verses about 
the grove and the banks of the watery Tiber. You, 
a poet of sublimer style, shall sing of Caesar, whenever, 
graceful in his well-earned laurel, he shall drag the 
fierce Sygambri along the sacred hill; Caesar, than whom 


ODE III. 


ODES OF HORACE 


67 


nothing greater or better the fates and indulgent gods 
ever bestowed on the earth, nor will bestow, though the 
times should return to their primitive gold. You shall 
sing both the festal days, and the public rejoicings on 
account of the prayed-for return of the brave Augustus, 
and the forum free from law-suits. Then (if I can offer 
any thing worth hearing) a considerable portion of my 
voice shall join [the general acclamation], and I will 
sing, happy at the reception of Caesar, “O glorious day, 
O worthy thou to be celebrated.” And while [the pro¬ 
cession] moves along, shouts of triumph we will repeat, 
shouts of triumph the whole city [will raise], and we 
will offer frankincense to the indulgent gods. Thee ten 
bulls and as many heifers shall absolve; me, a tender 
steerling, that, having left his dam, thrives in spacious 
pastures for the discharge of my vows, resembling [by 
the horns on] his forehead the curved light of the moon, 
when she appears of three days old, in which part he 
has a mark of a snowy aspect, being of a dun color over 
the rest of his body. 


ODE III. 

To Melpomene. 

Him, O Melpomene, upon whom at his birth thou 
hast once looked with favoiing eye, the Isthmian con¬ 
test shall not render eminent as a wrestler; the swift 
horse shall not draw him triumphant in a Grecian car; 
nor shall warlike achievement show him in the Capitol, 
a general adorned with the Delian laurel, on account of 
his having quashed the proud threats of kings: but such 
waters as flow through the fertile Tiber, and the dense 
leaves of the groves, shall make him distinguished by 
the iEolian verse. The sons of Rome, the queen of cities, 
deign to rank me among the amiable band of poets; 
and now I am less carped at by the tooth of envy. O 
muse, regulating the harmony of the gilded shell! O 
thou, who canst immediately bestow, if thou please, the 
notes of the swan upon the mute fish! It is entirely by 
thy gift that I am marked out, as the stringer of the 
Roman lyre, by the fingers of passengers; that I breathe, 
and give pleasure (if I give pleasure), is yours. 


68 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK IV. 


ODE IV. 

The Praises of Drusus. 

Like as the winged minister of thunder (to whom 
Jupiter, the sovereign of the gods, has assigned the 
dominion over the fleeting birds, having experienced his 
fidelity in the affair of the beauteous Ganymede), early 
youth and hereditary vigor have impelled from his nest 
unknowing of toil; and the vernal winds, the showers 
being now dispelled, taught him, still timorous, unwonted 
enterprises: in a little while a violent impulse dispatched 
him, as an enemy against the sheepfolds; now an 
appetite for food and fight has impelled him upon the 
reluctant serpents;—or as a she-goat, intent on rich 
pastures, has beheld a young lion but just weaned from 
the udder of his tawny dam, ready to be devoured by his 
newly-grown tooth: such did the Rhseti and the Vindelici 
behold Drusus carrying on the war under the Alps; 
whence this people derived the custom, which has always 
prevailed among them, of arming their right hands with 
the Amazonian ax, I have purposely omitted to inquire 
(neither is it possible to discover every thing). But 
those troops, which had been for a long while and ex¬ 
tensively victorious, being subdued by the conduct of a 
youth, perceived what a disposition, what a genius 
rightly educated under an auspicious roof, what the 
fatherly affection of Augustus toward the young Neros, 
could effect. The brave are generated by the brave and 
good; there is in steers, there is in horses, the virtue 
of their sires; nor do the courageous eagles procreate 
the unwarlike dove. But learning improves the innate 
force, and good discipline confirms the mind: whenever 
morals are deficient, vices disgrace what is naturally 
good. What thou owest, O Rome, to the Neros, the river 
Metaurus is a witness, and the defeated Asdrubal, and 
that day illustrious by the dispelling of darkness from 
Italy, and which first smiled with benignant victory; 
when the terrible African rode through the Latian cities, 
like a fire through the pitchy pines, or the east wind 
through the Sicilian waves. After this the Roman youth 


ODE V. 


ODES OF HORACE 


69 


increased continually in successful exploits, and temples, 
laid waste by the impious outrage of the Carthaginians, 
had the [statues of] their gods set up again. And at 
length the perfidious Hannibal said; ‘ ‘ We, like stags, 
the prey of rapacious wolves, follow of our own accord 
those, whom to deceive and escape is a signal triumph. 
That nation, which, tossed in the Etrurian waves, bravely 
transported their gods, and sons, and aged fathers, 
from the burned Troy to the Italian cities, like an oak 
lopped by sturdy axes in Algidum abounding in dusky 
leaves, through losses and through wounds derives 
strength and spirit from the very steel. The Hydra did 
not with more vigor grow upon Hercules grieving to be 
overcome, nor did the Colchians, or the Echionian Thebes, 
produce a greater prodigy. Should you sink it in the 
depth, it will come out more beautiful: should you 
contend with it, with great glory will it overthrow the 
conqueror unhurt before, and will fight battles to be 
the talk of wives. No longer can I send boasting mes¬ 
sengers to Carthage: all the hope and success of my name 
is fallen, is fallen by the death of Asdrubal. There is 
nothing, but what the Claudian hands will perform; 
which both Jupiter defends with his propitious divinity, 
and sagacious precaution conducts through the sharp 
trials of war. 


ODE Y. 

To Augustus. 

O best guardian of the Roman people, born under 
propitious gods, already art thou too long absent: after 
having promised a mature arrival to the sacred council 
of the senators, return. Restore, O excellent chieftain, 
the light to thy country; for, like the spring, wherever 
thy countenance has shone, the day passes more agree¬ 
ably for the people, and the sun has a superior luster. 
As a mother, with vows, omens, and prayers, calls for 
her son (whom the south wind with adverse gales de¬ 
tains from his sweet home, staying more than a year 
beyond the Carpathian Sea), nor turns aside her looks 


70 


ODES OF HORACE 


book rv. 


from the curved shore; in like manner, inspired with 
royal wishes, his country seeks for Cassar. For, [under 
your auspices,] the ox in safety traverses the meadows: 
Ceres nourishes the ground, and abundant Prosperity: 
the sailors skim through the calm ocean: and Faith is 
in dread of being censured. The chaste family is pol¬ 
luted by no adulteries: morality and the law have got 
the better of that foul crime; the child-bearing women 
are commended for an offspring resembling [the father; 
and] punishment presses as a companion upon guilt. 
Who can fear the Parthian? Who, the frozen Scythian? 
Who, the progeny that rough Germany produces, while 
Caesar is in safety? Who cares for the war of fierce 
Spain? Every man puts a period to the day amid his 
own hills, and weds the vine to the widowed elm-trees; 
hence he returns joyful to his wine, and invites you, as 
a deity, to his second course; thee, with many a prayer, 
thee he pursues with wine poured out [in libation] from 
the cups; and joins your divinity to that of his house¬ 
hold gods, in the same manner as Greece was mindful 
of Castor, and the great Hercules. May you, excellent 
chieftain, bestow a lasting festivity upon Italy! This 
is our language, when we are sober at the early day; 
this is our language, when we have well drunk, at the 
time the sun is beneath the ocean. 


ODE VI. , 

Hymn to Apollo. 

Thou god, whom the offspring of Niobe experienced 
as avenger of a presumptuous tongue, and the ravisher 
Tityus, and also the Thessalian Achilles, almost the 
conqueror of lofty Troy, a warrior superior to all others, 
but unequal to thee; though, son of the sea-goddess, 
Thetis, he shook the Dardanian towers, warring with 
his dreadful spear. He, as it were a pine smitten with 
the burning ax, or a cypress prostrated by the east wind, 
fell extended far, and reclined his neck in the Trojan 
dust. He would not, by being shut up in a [wooden] 
horse, that belied the sacred rights q£ Minerva, have 


ODE VII. 


ODES OF HORACE 


71 


surprised the Trojans reveling in an evil hour, and the 
court of Priam making merry in the dance; but openly 
inexorable to his captives, (oh impioUs, oh!) would have 
burned speechless babes with Grecian fires, even him 
concealed in his mother’s womb: had not the father 
of the gods, prevailed upon by thy entreaties and those 
of the beauteous Venus, granted to the affairs of iEneas 
walls founded under happier auspices. Thou lyrist 
Phoebus, tutor of the harmonious Thalia, who bathest 
thy locks in the river Xanthus, O delicate Agyieus, 
support the dignity of the Latian muse. Phoebus gave 
me genius, Phoebus the art of composing verse, and 
the title of poet. Ye virgins of the first distinction, and 
ye youths born of illustrious parents, ye wards of the 
Delian goddess, who stops with her bow the flying 
lynxes, and the stags, observe the Lesbian measure, and 
the motion of my thumb; duly celebrating the son of 
Latona, duly [celebrating] the goddess that enlightens 
the night with her shining crescent, propitious to the 
fruits, and expeditious in rolling on the precipitate 
months. Shortly a bride you will say: “I, skilled in 
the measure of the poet Horace, recited an ode which 
was acceptable to the gods, when the secular period 
brought back the festal days.” 


ODE VII. 

To Torquatus. 

The snows are fled, the herbage now returns to the 
fields, and the leaves to the trees. The earth changes 
its appearance, and the decreasing rivers glide along 
their banks: the elder Grace, together with the Nymphs, 
and her two sisters, ventures naked to lead off the 
dance. That you are not to expect things permanent, 
the year, and the hour that hurries away the agreeable 
day, admonish us. The colds are mitigated by the 
zephyrs: the summer follows close upon the spring, 
shortly to die itself, as soon as fruitful autumn shall 
have shed its fruits: and anon sluggish winter returns 
again. Nevertheless the quick-revolving moons repair 


72 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK IT. 


their wanings in the skies; but when we descend [to 
those regions] where pious tineas, where Tullus aud 
the wealthy Ancus [have gone before us], we become 
dust and a mere shade. Who knows whether the gods 
above will add to this day’s reckoning the space of 
to-morrow? Every thing, which you shall indulge to 
your beloved soul, will escape the greedy hands of your 
heir. When once, Torquatus, you shall be dead, and 
Minos shall have made his awful decisions concerning 
you; not your family, not your eloquence, not your piety 
shall restore you. For neither can Diana free the chaste 
Hippolytus from infernal darkness; nor is Theseus able 
to break off the Lethsean fetters from his dear 
Pirithous. 


ODE VIII. 

To Marcius Censorinus. 

O Censorinus, liberally would I present my acquaint¬ 
ance with goblets and beautiful vases of brass; I would 
present them with tripods, the rewards of the brave 
Grecians: nor would you bear off the meanest of my 
donations, if I were rich in those pieces of art, which 
either Parrhasius or Scopas produced; the latter in 
statuary, the former in liquid colors, eminent to portray 
at one time a man, at another a god. But I have no 
store of this sort, nor do your circumstances or inclina¬ 
tion require any such curiosities as these. You delight 
in verses: verses I can give, and set a value on the 
donation. Not marbles engraved with public inscriptions, 
by means of which breath and life returns to illustri¬ 
ous generals after their decease; not the precipitate 
flight of Hannibal, and his menaces retorted upon his 
own head: not the flames of impious Carthage * * * * 
more eminently set forth his praises, who returned, hav¬ 
ing gained a name from conquered Africa, than the 
Calabrian muses; neither, should writings be silent, would 
you have any reward for having done well. What 
would the son of Mars and Ilia be, if invidious silence 
had stifled the merits of Romulus? The force, and favor, 


ODE IX. 


ODES OF HORACE 


73 


and voice of powerful poets consecrate JEacus, snatched 
from the Stygian floods, to the Fortunate Islands. The 
muse forbids a praiseworthy man to die: the muse con¬ 
fers the happiness of heaven. Thus laborious Hercules 
has a place at the longed-for banquets of Jove: [thus] 
the sons of Tyndarus, that bright constellation, rescue 
shattered vessels from the bosom of the deep: [and 
thus] Bacchus, his temples adorned with the verdant 
vine-branch, brings the prayers of his votaries to suc¬ 
cessful issues. 


ODE IX. 

To Marcus Lollius. 

Lest you for a moment imagine that those words *will 
be lost, which I, born on the far-resounding Aufidus, 
utter to be accompanied with the lyre, by arts hitherto 
undivulged—if Maeonian Homer possesses the first rank, 
the Pindaric and Cean muses, and the menacing strains 
of Alcaeus, and the majestic ones of Stesichorus, are by 
no means obscure: neither, if Anacreon long ago sport¬ 
fully sung any thing, has time destroyed it: even now 
breathes the love and live the ardors of the -<Eolian 
maid, committed to her lyre. The Lacedaemonian Helen 
is not the only fair, who has been inflamed by admiring 
the delicate ringlets of a gallant, and garments em¬ 
broidered with gold, and courtly accomplishments, and 
retinue: nor was Teueer the first that leveled arrows 
from the Cydonian bow: Troy was more than once 
harassed: the great Idomeneus and Sthenelus were not 
the only heroes that fought battles worthy to be re¬ 
corded by the muses: the fierce Hector or the strenu¬ 
ous Deiphobus were not the first that received heavy 
blows in defense of virtuous wives and children. Many 
brave men lived before Agamemnon: but all of them, 
unlamented and unknown, are overwhelmed with endless 
obscurity, because they were destitute of a sacred bard. 
Valor, uncelebrated, differs but little from cowardice 
when in the grave. I will not [therefore], O Lollius, 
pass you over in silence, uncelebrated in my writings, 


74 


ODES OF HORACE» 


BOC5 IV, 


or suffer envious forgetfulness with impunity to seize 
so many toils of thine. You have a mind ever prudent 
in the conduct of affairs, and steady alike amid success 
and trouble: you are an avenger of avaricious fraud, 
and proof against money, that attracts every thing; and 
a consul not of one year only, but as often as the good 
and upright magistrate has preferred the honorable to 
the profitable, and has rejected with a disdainful brow 
the bribes of wicked men, and triumphant through op¬ 
posing bands has displayed his arms. You can not 
with propriety call him happy, that possesses much; he 
more justly claims the title of happy, who understands 
how to make a wise use of the gifts of the gods, and 
how to bear severe poverty; and dreads a reproachful 
deed worse than death; such a man as this is not afraid 
to perish in the defense of his dear friends, or of hia 
country. 


ODE X. 

To Ligurinus. 

O cruel still, and potent in the endowments of 
beauty, when an unexpected plume shall come upon your 
vanity, and those locks, which now wanton on your 
shoulders, shall fall off, and that color, which is now 
preferable to the blossom of the damask rose, changed, 
O Ligurinus, shall turn into a wrinkled face; [then] 
will you say (as often as you see yourself, [quite] 
another person in the looking-glass), Alas! why was not 
my present inclination the same when I was young? Or 
why do not my cheeks return, unimpaired, to these my 
present sentiments? 


ODE XI. 

To Phyllis. 

Phyllis, I have a cask full of Abanian wine, upward 
of nine years old; I have parsley in my garden, for 
the weaving of chaplets; I have a store of ivy, with 


ODE XII. 


ODES OF HORACE 


75 


which, when you have bound your hair, you look so 
gay: the house shines cheerfully with plate: the altar, 
bound with chaste vervain, longs to be sprinkled [with 
the blood] of a sacrificed lamb: all hands are busy: 
girls mingled with boys fly about from place to place: 
the flames quiver, rolling on their summit the sooty 
smoke. But yet, that you may know to what joys you 
are invited, the Ides are to be celebrated by you, the 
day which divides April, the month of sea-born Venus; 
[a day,] with reason to be solemnized by me, and almost 
more sacred to me than that of my own birth; since 
from this day my dear Maecenas reckons his flowing 
years. A rich and buxom girl hath possessed herself 
of Telephus, a youth above your rank; and she holds 
him fast by an agreeable fetter. Consumed Phaeton 
strikes terror into ambitious hopes, and the winged 
Pegasus, not stomaching the earth-born rider Bellerophon, 
affords a terrible example, that you ought always to 
pursue things that are suitable to you, and that you 
should avoid a disproportioned match, by thinking it a 
crime to entertain a hope beyond what is allowable. 
Come then, thou last of my loves (for hereafter I shall 
burn for no other woman), learn with me such measures, 
as thou mayest recite with thy lovely voice: our gloomy 
cares shall be mitigated with an ode. 


ODE XII. 

To Virgil. 

The Thracian breezes, attendants on the spring, which 
moderate the deep, now fill the sails; now neither are 
the meadows stiff [with frost], nor roar the rivers 
swollen with winter’s snow. The unhappy bird, that 
piteously bemoans Itys, and is the eternal disgrace of 
the house of Cecrops (because she wickedly revenged 
the brutal lusts of kings), now builds her nest. The 
keepers of the sheep play tunes upon the pipe amid the 
tender herbage, and delight that god, whom flocks and 
the shady hills of Arcadia delight. The time of year, 
O Virgil, has brought on a drought: but if you desire 


76 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK IV. 


to quaff wine from the Calenian press, you, that are a 
constant companion of young noblemen, must earn your 
liquor by [bringing some] spikenard: a small box of 
spikenard shall draw out a cask, which now lies in the 
Sulpician store-house, bounteous in the indulgence of 
fresh hopes and efficacious in washing away the bitter¬ 
ness of cares. To which joys if you hasten, come in¬ 
stantly with your merchandize: I do not intend to dip 
you in my cups scot-free, like a man of wealth, in a 
house abounding with plenty. But lay aside delay, and 
the desire of gain: and, mindful of the gloomy [funeral] 
flames, intermix, while you may, your grave studies 
with a little light gayety: it is delightful to give a loose 
on a proper occasion. 


ODE XIII. 

To Lyce. 

The gods have heard my prayers, O Lyce; Lyce, the 
gods have heard my prayers, you are become an old 
woman, and yet you would fain seem a beauty; and you 
wanton and drink in an audacious manner; and when 
drunk, solicit tardy Cupid, with a quivering voice. He 
basks in the charming cheeks of the blooming Chia, 
who is a proficient on the lyre. The teasing urchin flies 
over blasted oaks, and starts back at the sight of you, 
because foul teeth, because wrinkles and snowy hair 
render you odious. Now neither Coan purples nor spark¬ 
ling jewels restore those years, which winged time has 
inserted in the public annals. Whither is your beauty 
gone? Alas! or whither your bloom? Whither your 
graceful deportment? What have you [remaining] of 
her, of her, who breathed loves, and ravished me from 
myself? Happy next to Cynara, and distinguished for 
an aspect of graceful ways: but the fates granted a 
few years only to Cynara, intending to preserve for a 
long time Lyce,. to rival in years the aged raven: that 
the fervid young fellows might see, not without exces¬ 
sive laughter, that torch, [which once so brightly 
scorched,] reduced to ashes. 


ODE XIV, 


ODES OF HORACE 


77 


ODE XIV. 

To Augustus. 

What zeal of the senators, or what of the Roman 
people, by decreeing the most ample honors, can eternize 
your virtues, O Augustus, by monumental inscriptions 
and lasting records? O thou, wherever the sun illu¬ 
minates the habitable regions, greatest of princes, whom 
the Vindelici, that never experienced the Roman sway, 
have lately learned how powerful thou art in war! For 
Drusus, by means of your soldiery, has more than once 
bravely overthrown the Genauni, an implacable race, 
and the rapid Brenci, and the citadels situated on the 
tremendous Alps. The elder of the Neros soon after 
fought a terrible battle, and, under your propitious 
auspices, smote the ferocious Rhceti: how worthy of 
admiration in the field of battle, [to see] with what 
destruction he oppressed the brave hearts devoted to 
voluntary death: just as the south wind harasses the 
untameable waves, when the dance of the Pleiades cleaves 
the clouds; [so is he] strenuous to annoy the troops 
of the enemy, and to drive his eager steed through the 
midst of flames. Thus the bull-formed Aufidus, who 
washes the dominions of the Apulian Daunus, rolls along, 
when he rages and meditates an horrible deluge to the 
cultivated lands; when Claudius overthrew with impetu¬ 
ous might, the iron ranks of the barbarians, and by 
mowing down both front and rear strewed the ground, 
victorious without any loss; through you supplying them 
with troops, you with councils, and your own guardian 
powers. For on that day, when the suppliant Alex¬ 
andria opened her ports and deserted court, fortune, 
propitious to you in the third lustrum, has put a happy 
period to the war, and has ascribed praise and wished- 
for honor to the victories already obtained. O thou 
dread guardian of Italy and imperial Rome, thee the 
Spaniard, till now unconquered, and the Mede, and the 
Indian, thee the vagrant Scythian admires; thee both 
the Nile, who conceals his fountain heads, and the 
Danube; thee the rapid Tigris; thee the monster-bearing 


78 


ODES OF HORACE 


BOOK IV. 


ocean, that roars against the remote Britons; thee the 
region of Gaul fearless of death, and that of hardy 
Iberia obeys; thee the Sicambrians, who delight in 
slaughter, laying aside their arms, revere. 


ODE XV. 

To Augustus, on the Restoration of Peace. 

Phoebus chid me, when I was meditating to sing of 
battles and conquered cities on the lyre; that I might 
not set my little sails along the Tyrrhenian Sea. Your 
age, O Caesar, has both restored plenteous crops to the 
fields, and has brought back to our Jupiter the standards 
torn from the proud pillars of the Parthians; and has 
shut up [the temple] of Janus [founded by] Romulus, 
now free from war; and has imposed a due discipline 
upon headstrong licentiousness, and has extirpated 
crimes, and recalled the ancient arts; by which the Latin 
name and strength of Italy have increased, and the 
fame and majesty of the empire is extended from the 
sun’s western bed to the east. While Caesar is guardian 
of affairs, neither civil rage nor violence shall disturb 
tranquillity; nor hatred which forges swords, and sets 
at variance unhappy states. Not those, who drink of 
the deep Danube, shall now break the Julian edicts: not 
the Getae, not the Seres, nor the perfidious Persians, nor 
those born upon the river Tanai's. And let us, both on 
common and festal days, amid the gifts of joyous 
Bacchus, together with our wives and families, having 
first duly invoked the gods, celebrate, after the manner 
of our ancestors, with songs accompanied with Lydian 
pipes, our late valiant commanders; and Troy, and 
Anchises, and the offspring of benign Venus. 


THE EPODES OF HORACE 


ODE I. 

To Mcecenas. 

Thou wilt go, my friend Maecenas, with Liburian 
galleys among the towering forts of ships, ready at 
thine own [hazard] to undergo any of Caesar’s dangers. 
What shall I do? To whom life may be agreeable, if 
you survive; but, if otherwise, burdensome. Whether 
shall I, at your command, pursue my ease, which can 
not be pleasing unless in your company? Or shall I 
endure this toil with such a courage, as becomes un¬ 
effeminate men to bear? I will bear it? and with an 
intrepid soul follow you, either through the summits 
of the Alps, and the inhospitable Caucasus, or to the 
furthest western bay. You may ask how I, unwarlike 
and infirm, can assist your labors by mine? While I 
am your companion, I shall be in less anxiety, which 
takes possession of the absent in a greater measure. As 
the bird, that has unfledged young, is in a greater dread 
of serpents’ approaches, when they are left: not that, 
if she should be present when they came, she could 
render more help. Not only this, but every other war, 
shall be cheerfully embraced by me for the hope of 
your favor; [and this,] not that my plows should labor, 
yoked to a greater number of mine own oxen; or that 
my cattle before the scorching dog-star should change 
the Calabrian for the Lucanian pastures: neither that 
my white country-box should equal the Circaean walls of 
loftv Tusculum. Your generosity has enriched me 
enough, and more than enough: I shall never wish to 

79 



80 


EPODES OF HORACE 


ODE II. 


amass, what either, like the miser Chremesj I may bury 
in the earth, or luxuriously squander, like a prodigal. 


ODE II. 

The Praises of a Country Life. 

Happy the man, who, remote from business, after 
the manner of the ancient race of mortals, cultivates 
his paternal lands with his own oxen, disengaged from 
every kind of usury; he is neither alarmed by the hor¬ 
rible trump, as a soldier, nor dreads he the angry sea; 
he shuns both the bar and the proud portals of citizens 
in power. Wherefore he either weds the lofty poplars 
to the mature branches of the vine; and, lopping off 
the useless boughs with his pruning-knife, he ingrafts 
more fruitful ones: or he takes a prospect of the herds 
of his lowing cattle, wandering about in a lonely vale; 
or stores his honey, pressed [from the combs], in clean 
vessels; or shears his tender sheep. Or, when autumn 
has lifted up in the fields his head adorned with mellow 
fruits, how does he rejoice, while he gathers the grafted 
pears, and the grape that vies with the purple, with 
which he may recompense thee, O Priapus, and thee, 
father Sylvanus, guardian of his boundaries! Some¬ 
times he delights to lie under an aged holm, sometimes 
on the matted grass: meanwhile the waters glide along 
in their deep channels; the birds warble in the woods; 
and the fountains murmur with their purling streams, 
which invites gentle slumbers. But when the wintery 
season of the tempestuous air prepares rains and snows, 
he either drives the fierce boars, with many a dog, into 
the intercepting toils; or spreads his thin nets with the 
smooth pole, as a snare for the voracious thrushes; or 
catches in his gin the timorous hare, or that stranger 
the crane, pleasing rewards [for his labor]. Among such 
joys as these, who does not forget those mischievous 
anxieties, which are the property of love. But if a 
chaste wife, assisting on her part [in the management] 
of the house, and beloved children (such as is the 
Sabine, or the sun-burned spouse of the industrious 


ODE III. 


EPODES OF HORACE 


81 


Apulian), piles up the sacred hearth with old wood, just 
at the approach of her weary husband; and, shutting 
up the fruitful cattle in the woven hurdles, milks dry 
their distended udders: and, drawing this year’s wine 
out of a well-seasoned cask prepares the unbought colla¬ 
tion: not the Lucrine oysters could delight me more, 
nor the turbot, nor the scar, should the tempestuous 
winter drive any from the eastern floods to this sea: not 
the turkey, nor the Asiatic wild-fowl, can come into 
my stomach more agreeably, than the olive gathered 
from the richest branches from the trees, or the sorrel 
that loves the meadows, or mallows salubrious for a 
sickly body, or a lamb slain at the feast of Terminus, 
or a kid rescued from the wolf. Amid these dainties, 
"how it pleases one to see the well-fed sheep hastening 
home! to see the weary oxen, with drooping neck, drag¬ 
ging the inverted plowshare; and slaves, the test of a 
rich family, ranged about the smiling household gods! 
When Alfius, the usurer, now on the point of turning 
countryman, had said this, he collected in all his money 
on the Ides; and endeavors to put it out again at the 
Calends. 


ODE III. 

To Mcecenas. 

If any person at any time with an impious hand has 
broken his aged father’s neck, let him eat garlic, more 
baneful than hemlock. Oh! the hardy bowels of the 
mowers! What poison is this that rages in my entrails? 
Has viper’s blood, infused in these herbs, deceived me? 
Or has Canidia dressed this baleful food? When Medea, 
beyond all the [other] Argonauts, admired their hand¬ 
some leader, she anointed Jason with this, as he was 
going to tie the untried yoke on the bulls: and having 
revenged herself on [Jason’s] mistress, by making her 
presents besmeared with this, she flew away on her 
winged dragon. Never did the steaming influence of 
any constellation so raging as this rest upon the thirsty 
Appulia: neither did the gift [of Dejanira] burn hotter 


82 


EPODES OF HORACE * 


ODE IV. V. 


upon the shoulders of laborious Hercules. But if ever, 
facetious Maecenas, you should have a desire for any such 
stuff again, I wish that your girl may oppose her hand 
to your kiss, and lie at the furthest part of the bed. 


ODE IV. 

To Menas. 

As great an enmity as is allotted by nature to wolves 
and lambs, [so great a one] have I to you, you that 
are galled at your back with Spanish cords, and on your 
legs with the hard fetter. Though, purse-proud with your 
riches, you strut along, yet fortune does not alter your 
birth. Do you not observe while you are stalking along 
the sacred way with a robe twice three ells long, how 
the most open indignation of those that pass and repass 
turns their looks on thee? This fellow, [say they,] cut 
with the triumvir’s whips, even till the beadle was sick 
of his office, plows a thousand acres of Falernian land, 
and wears out the Appian road with his nags; and, in 
despite of Otho, sits in the first rows [of the circus] as 
a knight of distinction. To what purpose is it, that 
so many brazen-beaked ships of immenge bulk should 
be led out against pirates and a band of slaves, while 
this fellow, this is a military tribune? 


ODE V. 

The Witches Mangling a Boy. 

But oh, by all the gods in heaven, who rule the 
earth and human race, what means this tumult? And 
what the hideous looks of all these [hags, fixed] upon 
me alone? I conjure thee by thy children (if invoked 
Lucina was ever present at any real birth of thine), I 
[conjure] thee by this empty honor of my purple, by 
Jupiter, who must disapprove these proceedings, why 
dost thou look at me as a step-mother, or as a wild 
beast stricken with a dart? While the boy made these 


ODE V. 


EPODES OF HORACE 


83 


complaints witli a faltering voice, he stood with his 
bandages of distinction taken from him, a tender frame, 
such as might soften the impious breasts of the cruel 
Thracians; Canidia, having interwoven her hair and 
uncombed head with little vipers, orders wild fig-trees 
torn up from graves, orders funeral cypresses and eggs 
besmeared with the gore of a loathsome toad, and 
feathers of the nocturnal screech-owl, and those herbs, 
which Iolchos, and Spain, fruitful in poisons, transmits, 
and bones snatched from the mouth of a hungry bitch, 
to be burned in Colchian flames. But Sagana, tucked 
up for expedition, sprinkling the waters of Avernus all 
over the house, bristles up with her rough hair like a 
sea-urchin, or a boar in the chase. Veia, deterred by 
no remorse of conscience, groaning with the toil, dug 
up the ground with the sharp spade; where the boy, 
fixed in, might long be tormented to death at the sight 
of food varied two or three times in a day: while he 
stood out with his face, just as much as bodies sus¬ 
pended by the chin [in swimming] project from the 
water, that his parched marrow and dried liver might 
be a charm for love; when once the pupils of his eyes 
had wasted away, fixed on the forbidden food. Both the 
idle Naples, and every neighboring town believed, that 
Folia of Ariminum, [a witch] of masculine lust, was 
not absent: she, who with her Thessalian incantations 
forces the charmed stars and the moon from heaven. 
Here the fell Canidia, gnawing her unpaired thumb with 
her livid teeth, what said she? or what did she not say? 
O ye faithful witnesses to my proceedings, Night and 
Diana, who presidest over silence, when the secret rites 
are celebrated: now, now be present, now turn your 
anger and power against the house of our enemies, while 
the savage wild beasts lie hid in the woods, dissolved 
in sweet repose; let the dogs of Suburra (which may¬ 
be matter of ridicule for every body) bark at the aged 
profligate, bedaubed with ointment, such as my hands 
never made any more exquisite. \Vhat is the matter ? 
Why are these compositions less efficacious than those 
of the barbarian Medea? by means of which she made 
her escape, after having revenged herself on [Jason’s] 
haughty mistress, the daughter of the mighty Creon; 


84 


EPODES OF HORACE 


ODE VI. 


when the garment, a gift that was infected with venom, 
took off his new bride by its inflammatory power. And 
yet no herb, nor root hidden in inaccessible places, ever 
escaped my notice. [Nevertheless,] he sleeps in the 
perfumed bed of every harlot, from his fortgetfulness 
[of me]. Ah! ah! he walks free [from my power] by 
the charms of some more knowing witch. Varus, (oh 
you that will shortly have much to lament!) you shall 
come back to me by means of unusual spells; nor shall 
you return to yourself by all the power of Marsian en¬ 
chantments. I will prepare a stronger philter: I will 
pour in a stronger philter for you, disdainful as you 
are; and the heaven shall subside below the sea, with 
the earth extended over it, sooner than you shall not 
burn with love for me, in the same manner as this pitch 
[burns] in the sooty flames. At these words, the boy 
no longer [attempted], as before, to move the impious 
hags by soothing expressions; but, doubtful in what 
manner he should break silence, uttered Thyestean im¬ 
precations. Potions [said he] have a great efficacy in 
confounding right and wrong, but are not able to invert 
the condition of human nature; I will persecute you 
with curses; and execrating detestation is not to be 
expiated by any victim. Moreover, when doomed to 
death I shall have expired, I will attend you as a noc¬ 
turnal fury; and, a ghost, I will attack your faces with 
my hooked talons (for such is the power of those divini¬ 
ties, the Manes), and, brooding upon your restless 
breasts, I will deprive you of repose by terror. The 
mob, from village to village, assaulting you on every 
side with stones, shall demolish you filthy hags. Finally, 
the wolves and Esquiline vultures shall scatter abroad 
your unburied limbs. Nor shall this spectacle escape the 
observation of my parents, who alas! must survive me. 

ODE VI. 

Against Cassius Severus. 

O cur, thou coward against wolves, why dost thou 
persecute innocent strangers? Why do you not, if you 
can, turn your empty yelpings hither, and attack me, 


ode vii. viii. EPODES OF HORACE 


85 


who will bite again? For, like a Molossian, or tawny 
Laconian dog, that is a friendly assistant to shepherds, 
I will drive with erected ears through the deep snows 
every brute that shall go before me. You, when you 
have filled the grove with your fearful barking, you 
smell at the food that is thrown to you. Have a care, 
have a care; for, very bitter against bad men, I exert 
my ready horns uplift; like him that was rejected as 
a son-in-law by the perfidious Lycambes, or the sharp 
enemy of Bupalus. What, if any cur attack me with 
malignant tooth, shall I, without revenge, blubber like 
a boy? 


ODE VII. 

To the Boman People. 

Whither, whither, impious men are you rushing? Or 
why are the swords drawn, that were [so lately] 
sheathed? Is there too little of Roman blood spilled 
upon land and sea? [And this,] not that the Romans 
might burn the proud towers of envious Carthage, or 
that the Britons, hitherto unassailed, might go down the 
sacred way bound in chains: but that, agreeably to the 
wishes of the Parthians, this city may fall by its own 
might. This custom [of warfare] never obtained even 
among either wolves or savage lions, unless against a 
different species. Does blind phrenzy, or your superior 
valor, or some crime, hurry you on at this rate? Give 
answer. They are silent: and wan paleness infects their 
countenances, and their stricken souls are stupefied. This 
is the case: a cruel fatality and the crime of fratricide 
have disquieted the Romans, from that time when the 
blood of the innocent Remus, to be expiated by his 
descendants, was spilled upon the earth. 

ODE VIII. 

Upon a Wanton Old Woman. 

Can you, grown rank with lengthened age, ask what 
unnerves my vigor? When your teeth are black, and 


86 


EPODES OF HORACE 


ODE IX 


old age withers your brow with wrinkles: and your 
back sinks between your staring hip-bones, .like that of 
an unhealthy cow. But, forsooth! your breast and your 
fallen chest, full well resembling a broken-backed horse, 
provoke me; and a body flabby, and feeble knees sup¬ 
ported by swollen legs. May you be happy: and may 
triumphal statues adorn your funeral procession: and 
may no matron appear in public abounding with richer 
pearls. What follows, because the Stoic treatises some¬ 
times love to be on silken pillows? Are unlearned con¬ 
stitutions the less robust? Or are their limbs less stout? 
But for you to raise an appetite, in a stomach that is 
nice, it is necessary that you exert every art of language. 


ODE IX. 

To Maecenas. 

When, O happy Maecenas, shall I, overjoyed at 
Caesar’s being victorious, drink with you under the 
stately dome (for so it pleases Jove) the Caecuban re¬ 
served for festal entertainments, while the lyre plays a 
tune, accompanied with flutes, that in the Doric, these 
in the Phrygian measure? As lately, when the Neptunian 
admiral, driven from the sea, and his navy burned, 
fled, after having menaced those chains to Rome, which, 
like a friend, he had taken off from perfidious slaves. 
The Roman soldiers (alas! ye, our posterity, will deny 
the fact), enslaved to a woman, carry palisadoes and 
arms, and can be subservient to haggard eunuchs; and 
among the military standards, oh shame! the sun be¬ 
holds an [Egyptian] canopy. Indignant at this, the 
Gauls turned two thousand of their cavalry, proclaiming 
Caesar: and the ships of the hostile navy, going off to 
the left, lie by in port. Hail, god of triumph! Dost 
thou delay the golden chariots and untouched heifers? 
Hail, god of triumph! You neither brought back a 
general equal [to Caesar], from the Jugurthine war; nor 
from the African [war, him], whose valor raised him 
a monument over Carthage. Our enemy, overthrown both 
by land and sea, has changed his purple vestments for 


ODE X. XI. 


EPODES OF HORACE 


87 


mourning. He either seeks Crete, famous for her hun¬ 
dred cities, ready to sail with unfavorable winds; or the 
Syrtes harassed by the south; or else is driven by the 
uncertain sea. Bring hither, boy, larger bowls, and the 
Chian or Lesbian wine; or, what may correct the rising 
qualm of mine, fill me out the Csecuban. It is my 
pleasure to dissipate care and anxiety for Caesar's danger 
with delicious wine. 


ODE X. 

Against Mcevius. 

The vessel, that carries the loathsome Maevius, makes 
her departure under an unlucky omen. Be mindful, O 
south wind, that you buffet it about with horrible bil¬ 
lows. May the gloomy east, turning up the sea, disperse 
its cables and broken oars. Let the north arise as mighty 
as when he rives the quivering oaks on the lofty moun¬ 
tains; nor let a friendly star appear through the murky 
night, in which the baleful Orion sets: nor let him be 
conveyed in a calmer sea, than was the Grecian band 
of conquerors, when Pallas turned her rage from burned 
Troy to the ship of impious Ajax. Oh what a sweat is 
coming upon your sailors, and what a sallow paleness 
upon you, and that effeminate wailing, and those prayers 
to unregarding Jupiter; when the Ionian bay, roaring 
with the tempestuous south-west, shall break your keel! 
But if, extended along the winding shore, you shall de¬ 
light the cormorants as a dainty prey, a lascivious he- 
goat and an ewe-lamb shall be sacrificed to the 
Tempests. 


ODE XI. 

To Pectins. 

It by no means, O Pectius, delights me as heretofore 
to write Lyric verses, being smitten with cruel love: 
with love, who takes pleasure to inflame me beyond 
others, either youths or maidens. This is the third 


88 


EPODES OF HORACE 


ODE XII. 


December that has shaken the [leafy] honors from the 
woods, since I ceased to be mad for Inachia. Ah me! 
(for I am ashamed of so great a misfortune) what a 
subject of talk was I throughout the city! I repent 
too of the entertainments, at which both a languishing 
and silence and sighs, heaved from the bottom of my 
breast, discovered the lover. As soon as the indelicate 
god [Bacchus] by the glowing wine had removed, as I 
grew warm, the secrets of [my heart] from their re¬ 
pository, I made my complaints, lamenting to you, ‘ ‘ Has 
the fairest genius of a poor man no weight against 
wealthy lucre? Wherefore if a generous indignation boil 
in my breast, insomuch as to disperse to the winds these 
disagreeable applications, that give no ease to the des¬ 
perate wound; the shame [of being overcome] ending, 
shall cease to contest with rivals of such a sort . 5 ’ When 
I, with great gravity, had applauded these resolutions in 
your presence, being ordered to go home, I was carried 
with a wandering foot to posts, alas! to me not friendly, 
and alas! obdurate gates, against which I bruised my 
loins and side. Now my affections for the delicate 
Lyciscus engross all my time: from them neither the 
unreserved admonitions, nor the serious reprehensions 
of other friends, can recall me [to my former taste for 
poetry]; but, perhaps, either a new flame for some fair 
damsel, or for some graceful youth who binds his long 
hair in a knot, [may do so]. 


ODE XII. 

To a Woman Whose Charms Were Over. 

What would you be at, you woman fitter for the 
swarthy monsters? Why do you send tokens, why billet- 
doux to me, and not to some vigorous youth, and of a 
taste not nice? For I am one who discerns a polypus 
or fetid ramminess, however concealed, more quickly than 
the keenest dog the covert of the boar. What sweati¬ 
ness', and how rank an odor every where rises from her 
withered limbs! when she strives to lay her furious rage 
with impossibilities; now she has no longer the advan- 


ODE XIII. 


EPODES OF HORACE 


89 


tage of moist cosmetics, and her color appears as if 
stained with crocodile’s ordure; and now, in wild im¬ 
petuosity, she tears her bed, bedding, and all she has. 
She attacks even my loathings in the most angry terms: 
—“You are always less dull with Inachia than me: in 
her company you are threefold complaisance; but you 
are ever unprepared to oblige me in a single instance. 
Lesbia, who first recommended you—so unfit a help in 
time of need—may she come to an ill end! when Coan 
Amyntas paid me his addresses; who is ever as con¬ 
stant in his fair-one’s service, as the young tree to the 
hill it grows on. For whom were labored the fleeces of 
the richest Tyrian dye? For you? Even so that there 
was not one in company, among gentlemen of your own 
rank, whom his own wife admired preferably to you: 
oh, unhappy me, whom you fly, as the lamb dreads the 
fierce wolves, or the she-goats the lions! ’ 1 


ODE XIII. 


To a Friend. 

A horrible tempest has condensed the sky, and showers 
and snows bring down the atmosphere: now the sea, 
now the woods bellow with the Thracian north wind. 
Let us, my friend, take occasion from the day; and, 
while our knees are vigorous, and it becomes us, let old 
age with his contracted forehead become smooth. Do 
you produce the wine, that was pressed in the consul¬ 
ship of my Torquatus. Forbear to talk of any other 
matters. Th^ deity, perhaps, will reduce these [present 
evils] to your former [happy] state by a propitious 
change. Now it is fitting both to be bedewed with 
Persfan perfume, and to relieve our breasts of dire vexa¬ 
tions by the lyre, sacred to Mercury. Like as the noble 
Centaur, [Chiron,] sung to his mighty pupil: “In¬ 
vincible mortal, son of the goddess Thetis, the land of 
Assaracus awaits you, which the cold currents of little 
Scamander and swift-gliding Simois divide: whence the 
fatal sisters have broken off your return, by a thread 
that can not be altered: nor shall your azure mother 




90 


EPODES OF HORACE ode xiv. xv, 


convey you back to your home. There [then] by wine 
and music, sweet consolations, drive away every symp¬ 
tom of hideous melancholy. ’* 


ODE XIV. 

To Mcecenas. 

You kill me, my courteous Mzecenas, by frequently 
inquiring, why a soothing indolence has diffused as great 
a degree of forgetfulness on my famous senses, as if I 
had imbibed with a thirsty throat the cups that bring 
on Lethean slumbers. For the god, the god prohibits 
me from bringing to a conclusion the verses I promised 
[you, namely those] iambics which I had begun. In 
the same manner they report that Anacreon of Teios 
burned for the Samian Bathyllus; who often lamented 
his love to an inaccurate measure on a hollow lyre. You 
are violently in love yourself; but if a fairer flame did 
not burn besieged Troy, rejoice in your lot. Phryne, a 
freed-woman, and not content with a single admirer, 
consumes me. 


ODE XY. 

To Necera. 

It was night, and the moon shone in a serene sky 
among the lesser stars; when you, about to violate the 
divinity of the great gods, swore [to be true] to my 
requests, embracing me with your pliant arms more 
closely than the lofty oak is clasped by the ivy; that 
while the wolf should remain an enemy to the flock, 
and Orion, unpropitious to the sailors, should trouble the 
wintery sea, and while the air should fan the unshorn 
locks of Apollo, [so long you vowed] that this love should 
be mutual. O Nesera, who shall one day greatly grieve 
on account of my merit: for, if there is any thing of 
manhood in Horace, he will not endure that you should 
dedicate your nights continually to another, whom you 



ODE XVI. 


EPODES OF HORACE 


91 


prefer; and exasperated, he will look out for one who 
will return his love: and, though an unfeigned sorrow 
should take possession of you, yet my firmness shall not 
give way to that beauty which has once given me dis¬ 
gust. But as for you, whoever you be who are more 
successful [than me], and now strut proud of my mis¬ 
fortune; though you be rich in flocks and abundance 
of land, and Pactolus flow for you, nor the mysteries 
of Pythagoras, born again, escape you, and you excel 
Nireus in beauty; alas! you shall [hereafter] bewail 
her love transferred elsewhere: but I shall laugh in my 
turn. 


ODE XVI. 

To the Roman People. 

Now is another age worn away by civil wars, and 
Rome herself falls by her own strength. Whom neither 
the bordering Marsi could destroy, nor the Etrurian band 
of the menacing Porsena, nor the rival valor of Capua, 
nor the bold Spartacus, and the Gauls perfidious with 
their innovations: nor did the fierce Germany subdue 
with its blue-eyed youth, nor Annibal, detested by 
parents; but we, an impious race, whose blood is de¬ 
voted to perdition, shall destroy her: and this land shall 
again be possessed by wild beasts. The victorious bar¬ 
barian, alas! shall trample upon the ashes of the city, 
and the horsemen shall smite it with the sounding hoofs; 
and (horrible to see!) he shall insultingly disperse the 
bones of Romulus, which [as yet] are free from the 
injuries of wind and sun. Perhaps you all in general, 
or the better part of you, are inquisitive to know, what 
may be expedient, in order to escape [such] dreadful 
evils. There can be no determination better than this; 
namely, to go wherever our feet will carry us, wherever 
the south or boisterous south-west shall summon us 
through the waves; in the same manner as the state 
of the Phocseans fled, after having uttered execrations 
[against such as should return], and left their fields and 
proper dwellings and temples to be inhabited by boars 


92 


EPODES OF HORACE 


ODE XVI. 


and ravenous wolves. Is this agreeable? has any one 
a better scheme to advise? Why do we delay to go on 
shipboard under an auspicious omen? But first let us 
swear to these conditions—the stones shall swim up¬ 
ward, lifted from the bottom of the sea, as soon as 
it shall not be impious to return; nor let it grieve us 
to direct our sails homeward, when the Po shall wash 
the tops of the Matinian summits; or the lofty Apennine 
shall remove into the sea, or a miraculous appetite shall 
unite monsters by a strange kind of lust; insomuch that 
tigers may delight to couple with hinds, and the dove 
be polluted with the kite; nor the simple herds may 
dread the brindled lions, and the he-goat, grown smooth, 
may love the briny main. After having sworn to these 
things, and whatever else may cut off the pleasing hope 
of returning, let us go, the whole city of us, or at least 
that part which is superior to the illiterate mob: let 
the idle and despairing part remain upon these inauspi¬ 
cious habitations. Ye, that have bravery, away with 
effeminate grief, and fly beyond the Tuscan shore. The 
ocean encircling the land awaits us; let us seek the 
happy plains, and prospering islands, where the untilled 
land yearly produces corn, and the unpruned vineyard 
punctually flourishes; and where the branch of the 
never-failing olive blossoms forth, and the purple fig 
adorns its native tree: honey distills from the hollow 
oaks; the light water bounds down from the high moun¬ 
tains with a murmuring pace. There the she-goats come 
to the milk-pails of their own accord, and the friendly 
flock return with their udders distended; nor does the 
bear at evening growl about the sheep fold, nor docs the 
rising ground swell with vipers: and many more things 
shall we, happy [Romans], view with admiration: how 
neither the rainy east lays waste the corn-fields with 
profuse showers, nor is the fertile seed burned by a 
dry glebe; the king of gods moderating both [extremes]. 
The pine rowed by the Argonauts never attempted to 
come hither; nor did the lascivious [Medea] of Colchis 
set her foot [in this place] : hither the Sidonian mariners 
never turned their sail-yards, nor the toiling crew of 
Ulysses. No contagious distempers hurt the flocks; nor 
does the fiery violence of any constellation scorch the 


ODE XVII. 


EPODES OF HORACE 


93 


herd. Jupiter set apart those shores for a pious people, 
when he debased the gold age with brass: with brass, 
then with iron he hardened the ages; from which there 
shall be a happy escape for the good according to my 
predictions. 


ODE XVII. 

Dialogue Between Horace and Canidia. 

Now, now I yield to powerful science; and suppliant 
beseech thee by the dominions of Proserpine, and by 
the inflexible divinity of Diana, and by the books of 
incantations able to call down the stars displaced from 
the firmament; O Canidia, at length desist from thine 
imprecations, and quickly turn, turn back thy magical 
machine. Telephus moved [with compassion] the grand¬ 
son of Nereus, against whom he arrogantly had put his 
troops of Mysians in battle-array, and against whom 
he had darted his sharp javelins. The Trojan matrons 
embalmed the body of the man-slaying Hector, which 
had been condemned to birds of prey, and dogs, after 
king [Priam], having left the walls of the city, pros¬ 
trated himself, alas! at the feet of the obstinate Achilles. 
The mariners of the indefatigable Ulysses put off their 
limbs, bristled with the hard skins [of swine], at the 
will of Circe: then their reason and voice were restored, 
and their former comeliness to their countenances. I 
have suffered punishment enough, and more than enough, 
on thy account, O thou so dearly beloved by the sailors 
and factors. My vigor is gone away, and my ruddy 
complexion has left me; my bones are covered with a 
ghastly skin; my hair with your preparation is grown 
hoary. No ease respites me from my sufferings: night 
presses upon day, and day upon night: nor is it in 
my power to relieve my lungs, which are strained with 
gasping. Wherefore, wretch that I am, I am compelled 
to credit (what was denied, by me) that the charms of 
the Samnites discompose the breast, and the head splits 
in sunder at the Marsian incantations. What wouldst 
thou have more? O sea! O earth! I burn in such a 


94 


EPODES OF HORACE 


ODE XVII- 


degree as neither Hercules did, besmeared with the 
black gore of Nessus, nor the fervid flame burning in 
the Sicilian ^Etna. Yet you, a laboratory of Colchian 
poisons, remain on fire, till I, [reduced to] a dry ember, 
shall be wafted away by the injurious winds. What 
event, or what penalty awaits me? Speak out: I will 
with honor pay the demanded mulct; ready to make an 
expiation, whether you should require a hundred steers, 
or chose to be celebrated on a lying lyre. You, a woman 
of modesty, you, a woman of probity, shall traverse the 
stars, as a golden constellation. Castor and the brother 
of the great Castor, offended at the infamy brought on 
[their sister] Helen, yet overcome by entreaty, restored 
to the poet his eyes that were taken away from him. 
And do you (for it is in your power) extricate me 
from this frenzy; O you, that are neither defiled by 
family meanness, nor skillful to disperse the ashes of 
poor people, after they have been nine days interred. 
You have an hospitable breast, and unpolluted hands; 
and Pactumeius is your son, and thee the midwife has 
tended; and whenever you bring forth, you spring up 
with unabated vigor. 


Canidia’s Answer. 

Why do you pour forth your entreaties to ears that 
are closely shut [against them] ? The wintery ocean, 
with its briny tempests, does not lash rocks more deaf 
to the cries of the naked mariners. What, shall you, 
without being made an example of, deride the Cotyttian 
mysteries, sacred to unrestrained love, which were di¬ 
vulged [by you]? And shall you, [assuming the office] 
of Pontiff [with regard to my] Esquilian incantations, 
fill the city with my name unpunished? What did it 
avail me to have enriched the Palignian sorceress [with 
my charms], and to have prepared poison of greater 
expedition, if a slower fate awaits you than is agreeable 
to my wishes? An irksome life shall be protracted by 
you, wretch as you are, for this purpose, that you may 
perpetually be able to endure new tortures. Tantalus, 
the perfidious sire of Pelops, ever craving after the 


ODE XVII. 


EPODES OF HORACE 


95 


plenteous banquet [which is always before him], wishes 
for respite; Prometheus, chained to the vulture, wishes 
[for rest]; Sisyphus wishes to place the stone on the 
summit of the mountain: but the laws of Jupiter forbid. 
Thus you shall desire at one time to leap down from 
a high tower, at another to lay open your breast with 
the Noric sword; and, grieving with your tedious in¬ 
disposition, shall tie nooses about your neck in vain. 
I at that time will ride on your odious shoulders; and 
the whole earth shall acknowledge my unexampled power. 
What shall I, who can give motion to waxen images (as 
you yourself, inquisitive as you are, were convinced of) 
and snatch the moon from heaven by my incantations; 
I, who can raise the dead after they are burned, and 
duly prepare the potion of love, shall I bewail the event 
of my art having no efficacy upon you 1 ? 


THE 

SECULAR POEM OE HORACE 


To Apollo and Diana. 

Phoebus, and thou Diana, sovereign of the woods, ye 
illustrius ornaments of the heavens, oh ever worthy of 
adoration and ever adored, bestow what we pray for 
at this sacred season: at which the Sibylline verses have 
given directions, that select virgins and chaste youths 
should sing a hymn to the deities, to whom the seven 
hills [of Rome] are acceptable. O genial sun, who in 
your splendid car draw forth and obscure the day, and 
who arise another and the same, may it ever be in your 
power to behold any thing more glorious than the city 
of Rome! O Ilithyia, of lenient power to produce the 
timely birth, protect the matrons [in labor]; whether 
you choose the title of Lucina, or Genitalis. O goddess, 
multiply our offspring; and prosper the decrees of the 
senate in relation to the joining of women in wedlock, 
and the matrimonial law about to teem with a new race; 
that the stated revolution of a hundred and ten years 
may bring back the hymns and the games, three times 
by bright daylight resorted to in crowds, and as often in 
the welcome night. And you, ye fatal sisters, infallible 
in having predicted what is established, and what the 
settled order of things preserves, add propitious fates 
to those already past. Let the earth, fertile in fruits 
and flocks, present Ceres with a sheafy crown: may both 
salubrious rains and Jove’s air cherish the young blood! 
Apollo, mild and gentle with your sheathed arrows, hear 
the suppliant youths: O moon, thou horned queen of 




THE SECULAR POEM OF HORACE 97 


stars, hear the virgins. If Rome be your work, and 
the Trojan troops arrived on the Tuscan shore (the 
part, commanded [by your oracles] to change their 
homes and city) by a successful navigation: for whom 
pious iEneas, surviving his country, secured a free 
passage through Troy, burning not by his treachery, 
about to give them more ample possessions than those 
that were left behind. O ye deities, grant to the tract¬ 
able youth probity of manners; to old age, ye deities, 
grant a pleasing retirement; to the Roman people, 
wealth, progeny, and every kind of glory. And may the 
illustrious issue of Anchises and Venus, who worships 
you with [offerings of] white bulls, reign superior to 
the warring enemy, merciful to the prostrate. Now the 
Parthian, by sea and land, dreads our powerful forces 
and the Roman axes: now the Scythians beg [to know] 
our commands, and the Indians but lately so arrogant. 
Now truth, and peace, and honor, and ancient modesty, 
and neglected virtue dare to return, and happy plenty 
appears, with her horn full to the brim. Phcebus, the 
god of augury, and conspicuous for his shining bow, 
and dear to the nine muses, who by his salutary art 
soothes the wearied limbs of the body; if he, propitious, 
surveys the Palatine altars—may he prolong the Roman 
affairs, and the happy state of Italy to another lustrum, 
and to an improving age. And may Diana, who pos¬ 
sesses Mount Aventine and Algidus, regard the prayers 
of the Quindecemvirs, and lend a gracious ear to the 
supplications of the youths. We, the choir taught to 
sing the praises of Phcebus and Diana, bear home with 
us a good and certain hope, that Jupiter, and all the 
other gods are sensible of these our supplications. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 

BOOK ONE 


SATIRE I. 

That all, hut especially the covetous, think their own 
condition the hardest. 

How comes it to pass, Maecenas, that no one lives 
content with his condition, whether reason gave it him, 
or chance threw it in his way; [but] praises those who 
follow different pursuits? “O happy merchants!” says 
the soldier, oppressed with years, and now broken down 
in his limbs through excess of labor. On the other 
side, the merchant, when the south winds toss his ship 
[cries], ‘‘Warfare is preferable;” for why? the engage¬ 
ment is begun, and in an instant there comes a speedy 
death or a joyful victory. The lawyer praises the 
farmer’s state when the client knocks at his door by 
cock-crow. He who, having entered into a recognizance, 
is dragged from the country into the city, cries, ‘ ‘ Those 
only are happy who live in the city.” The other in¬ 
stances of this kind (they are so numerous) would weary 
out the loquacious Fabius; not to keep you in suspense, 
hear to what an issue I will bring the matter. If any 
god should say, “ Lo! I will effect what you desire: 
you, that wefe just now a soldier, shall be a merchant; 
you, lately a lawyer [shall be] a farmer. Do ye depart 
one way, and ye another, having exchanged the parts 
[you] are to act in life. How now! Why do you 

98 



SAT. I. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


99 


stand?” They are unwilling; and yet it is in their 
power to be happy. What reason can be assigned, but 
that Jupiter should deservedly distend both his cheeks 
in indignation, and declare that for the future he will 
not be so indulgent as to lend an ear to their prayers? 
But further, that I may not run over this in a laughing 
manner, like those [who treat] on ludicrous subjects 
(though what hinders one being merry, while telling 
the truth? as good-natured teachers at first give cakes 
to their boys, that they may be willing to learn their 
first rudiments: raillery, however, apart, let us investi¬ 
gate serious matters). He that turns the heavy glebe 
with the hard plowshare, this fraudulent tavern-keeper, 
the soldier, and the sailors, who dauntless run through 
every sea, profess that they endure toil with this in¬ 
tention, that as old men they may retire into a secure 
resting-place, when once they have gotten together a 
sufficient provision. 

Thus the little ant (for she is an example), of great 
industry, carries in her mouth whatever she is able, and 
adds to the heap which she piles up, by no means ig¬ 
norant and not careless for the future. Which [ant, 
nevertheless], as soon as Aquarius saddens the changed 
year, never creeps abroad, but wisely makes use of 
those stores which were provided beforehand; while 
neither sultry summer, nor winter, fire, ocean, sword, 
can drive you from gain. You surmount every obstacle, 
that no other man may be richer than yourself. What 
pleasure is it for you, trembling to deposit an immense 
weight of silver and gold in the earth dug up by stealth? 
Because, if you should lessen it, it may be reduced to 
a paltry farthing. 

But unless that be the case, what beauty has an 
accumulated hoard? Though your thrashing-floor should 
yield a hundred thousand bushels of corn, your belly 
will not on that acount contain more than mine: just 
as if it were your lot to carry on your loaded shoulder 
the basket of bread among slaves, you would receive 
no more [for your own share] than he who bore no part 
of the burthen. Or tell me, what is it to the purpose 
of that man, who lives within the compass of nature, 
whether he plow a hundred or a thousand acres? 


100 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


‘ ‘ But it is still delightful to take out of a great 
hoard. ’ ’ 

While you leave us to take as much out of a moderate 
store why should you extol your granaries, more than 
our corn-baskets? As if you had occasion for no more 
than a pitcher or glass of water, and should say , “I 
had rather draw [so much] from a great river, than 
the very same quantity from this little fountain.” 
Hence it comes to pass, that the rapid Aufidus carries 
away, together with the bank, such men as an abundance 
more copious than what is just delights. But he who 
desires only so much as is sufficient, neither drinks water 
fouled with the mud, nor loses his life in the waves. 

But a great majority of mankind, misled by a wrong 
desire, cry, “No sum is enough; because you are es¬ 
teemed in proportion to what you possess.” What can 
one do to such a tribe as this? Why, bid them be 
wretched, since their inclination prompts them to it. As 
a certain person is recorded [to have lived] at Athens, 
covetous and rich, who was wont to despise the talk 
of the people in this manner: “The crowd hiss me; 
but I applaud myself at home, as soon as I contemplate 
my money in my chest.” The thirsty Tantalus catches 
at the streams, which elude his lips. Why do you 
laugh? The name changed, the tale is told of you. 
You sleep upon your bags, heaped up on every side, 
gaping over them, and are obliged to abstain from them, 
as if they were consecrated things, or to amuse your¬ 
self with them as you would with pictures. Are you 
ignorant of what value money has, what use it can 
afford? Bread, herbs, a bottle of wine may be pur¬ 
chased; to which [necessaries], add [such others], as, 
being withheld, human nature would be uneasy with 
itself. What, to watch half dead with terror, night 
and day, to dread profligate thieves, fire, and your 
slaves, lest they should run away and plunder you; is 
this delightful? I should always wish to be very poor 
in possessions held upon these terms. 

But if your body should be disordered by being seized 
with a cold, or any other casualty should confine you to 
your bed, have you one that will abide by you, prepare 
medicines, entreat the physician that he would set you 


BAT. i. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 101 

upon your feet, and restore you to your children and dear 
relations'? 

Neither your wife, nor your son, desires your recovery; 
all your neighbors, acquaintances, [nay the very] boys 
and girls hate you. Do you wonder that no one tenders 
you the affection which you do not merit, since you 
prefer your money to every thing else? If you think to 
retain, and preserve as friends, the relations which 
nature gives you, without taking any pains; wretch that 
you are, you lose your labor equally, as if any one should 
train an ass to be obedient to the rein, and run in the 
Campus [Martius]. Finally, let there be some end to 
your search; and, as your riches increase, be m less 
dread of poverty; and begin to cease from your toil, 
that being acquired which you coveted: nor do as did 
one Umidius (it is no tedious story), who was so rich 
that he measured his money, so sordid that he never 
clothed himself any better than a slave; and, even to 
his last moments, was in dread lest want of bread should 
oppress him: but his freed-woman, the bravest of all the 
daughters of Tyndarus, cut him in two with a hatchet. 

* 1 What therefore do you persuade me to do? That 
I should lead the life of Naevius, or in such a manner 
as a Nomentanus?' ’ 

You are going [now] to make things tally, that are 
contradictory in their natures. When I bid you not be 
a miser, I do not order you to become a debauchee or 
a prodigal. There is some difference between the case 
of Tana'is and his son-in-law Yisellius: there is a mean 
in things; finally, there are certain boundaries, on either 
side of which moral rectitude can not exist. I return 
now whence I digressed. Does no one, after the miser s 
example, like his own station, but rather praise those 
who have different pursuits; and pines, because his 
neighbor's she-goat bears a more distended udder; nor 
considers himself in relation to the greater multitude of 
poor; but labors-to surpass, first one, and then another? 
Thus the richer man is always an obstacle to one that 
is hastening [to be rich]: as when the courser whirls 
along the chariot, dismissed from the place of starting; 
the charioteer presses upon those horses which outstrip 
his own, despising him that is left behind coming on 


102 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


among the last. Hence it is, that we rarely find a man 
who can say he has lived happy, and content with his 
past life, can retire from the world like a satisfied guest. 
Enough for the present: nor will I add one word more, 
lest you should suspect that I have plundered the es¬ 
critoire of the blear-eyed Crispinus. 


SATIRE II. 

Bad men, when they avoid certain vices, fall into their 
opposite extremes. 

The tribes of female flute-players, quacks, vagrants, 
mimics, blackgards; all this set is sorrowful and de¬ 
jected on account of the death of the singer Tigellius; 
for he was liberal [toward them]. On the other hand, 
this man, dreading to be called a spendthrift, will not 
give a poor friend wherewithal to keep off cold and 
pinching hunger. If you ask him why he wickedly con¬ 
sumes the noble estate of his grandfather and father 
in tasteless gluttony, buying with borrowed money all 
sorts of dainties; he answers, because he is unwilling 
to be reckoned sordid, or of a mean spirit: he is praised 
by some, condemned by others. Fufidius, wealthy in 
lands, wealthy in money put out at interest, is afraid 
of having the character of a rake and spendthrift. This 
fellow deducts 5 per cent, interest from the principal 
[at the time of lending]; and, the more desperate in 
his circumstances any one is, the more severely he pinches 
him: he hunts out the names of young fellows that 
have just put on the toga virilis under rigid fathers. 
Who does not cry out, O sovereign Jupiter! when he 
has heard [of such knavery] ? But [you will say, per¬ 
haps,] this man expends upon himself in proportion to 
his gain. You can hardly believe how little a friend 
he is to himself: insomuch that the father, whom 
Terence’s comedy introduces as living miserable after 
he had caused his son to run away from him, did not 
torment himself /worse than he. Now if any one should 
ask, “To what does this matter tend?” To this: while 
fools shun [one sort of] vices, they fall upon their op- 


sat. ii. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


103 


posite extremes. Malthinus walks with his garments 
trailing upon the ground; there is another droll fellow 
who [goes] with them tucked up even to his middle; 
Rufillus smells like perfume itself, Gorgonius like a he- 
goat. There is no mean. There are some who would 
not keep company with a lady, unless hfer modest gar¬ 
ment perfectly conceal her feet. Another, again, will 
only have such as take their station in a filthy brothel. 
When a certain noted spark came out of a stew, the 
divine Cato [greeted] him with this sentence: “Pro¬ 
ceed (says he) in your virtuous course. For, when once 
foul lust has inflamed the veins, it is right for young 
fellows to come hither, in comparison of their meddling 
with other men’s wives.” I should not be willing to 
be commended on such terms, says Cupiennius, an ad¬ 
mirer of the silken vail. 

Ye, that do not wish well to the proceedings of 
adulterers, it is worth your while to hear how they are 
hampered on all sides; and that their pleasure, which 
happens to them but seldom, is interrupted with a great 
deal of pain, and often in the midst of very great 
dangers. One has thrown himself headlong from the 
top of a house; another has been whipped almost to 
death: a third, in his flight, has fallen into a merciless 
gang of thieves: another has paid a fine, [to avoid] 
corporal [punishment]: the lowest servants have treated 
another with the vilest indignities. Moreover, this mis¬ 
fortune happened to a certain person, he entirely lost 
his manhood. Every body said, it was with justice: 
Galba denied it. 

But how much safer is the traffic among [women] of 
the second rate! I mean the freed-women: after which 
Sallustius is not less mad, than he who commits adultery. 
But if he had a mind to be good and generous, as far 
as his estate and reason would direct him, and as far 
as a man might be liberal with moderation; he would 
give a sufficiency, not what would bring upon himself 
ruin and infamy. However, he hugs himself in this one 
[consideration]; this he delights in, this he extols: “I 
meddle with no matron.” Just as Marsaeus, the lover 
of Origo, he who gives his paternal estate and seat to 
an actress, says, ‘ ‘ I never meddle with other men’s 


104 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


wives.” But you have with actresses, you have with 
common strumpets: whence your reputation derives a 
greater perdition, than your estate. What, is it abun¬ 
dantly sufficient to avoid the person, and not the [vicej 
which is universally noxious? To lose one’s good name, 
to squander a father’s effects, is in all cases an evil. 
What is the difference, [then, with regard to yourself,] 
whether you sin with the person of a matron, a maiden, 
or a prostitute? 

Villius, the son-in-law of Sylla (by this title alone 
he was misled), suffered [for his commerce] with Fausta 
an adequate and more than adequate punishment, by 
being drubbed and stabbed, while he was shut out, that 
Longarenus might enjoy her within. Suppose this 
[young man’s] mind had addressed him in the words of 
his appetite, perceiving such evil consequences: “What 
would you have? Did I ever, when my ardor was at the 
highest, demand a woman descended from a great consul, 
and covered with robes of quality?” What could he 
answer? Why, “the girl was sprung from an illustrious 
father.” But how much better things, and how differ¬ 
ent from this, does nature, abounding in stores of her 
own, recommend; if you would only make a proper use 
of them, and not confound what is to be avoided with 
that which is desirable! Do you think it is of no con¬ 
sequence, whether your distresses arise from your own 
fault or from [a real deficiency] of things? Wherefore, 
that you may not repent [when it is too late], put a 
stop to your pursuit after matrons; whence more trouble 
is derived, than you can obtain of enjoyment from suc¬ 
cess. Nor has [this particular matron], amid her pearls 
and emeralds, a softer thigh, or limbs more delicate 
than yours, Cerinthus; nay, the prostitutes are frequently 
preferable. Add to this, that [the prostitute] bears 
about her merchandize without any varnish, and openly 
shows what she has to dispose of; nor, if she has aught 
more comely than ordinary does she boast and make 
an ostentation of it, while she is industrious to conceal 
that which is offensive. This is the custom with men 
of fortune: when they buy horses, they inspect them 
covered: that, if a beautiful forehand (as often) be 
supported by a tender hoof, it may not take in the 


sat. ii. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


105 


buyer, eager for the bargain, because the back is hand¬ 
some, the head little, and the neck stately. This they 
do judiciously. Do not you, [therefore, in the same 
manner] contemplate the perfections of each [fair one’s] 
person with the eyes of Lynceus; but be blinder than 
Hypsaea, when you survey such parts as are deformed. 
[You may cry out,] “O what a leg 1 O, what delicate 
arms!” But [you suppress] that she is low-hipped, 
short-waisted, with a long nose, and a splay foot. A 
man can see nothing but the face of a matron, who 
carefully conceals her other charms, unless it be a Catia. 
But if you will seek after forbidden charms (for the 
[circumstance of their being forbidden] makes you mad 
after them), surrounded as they are with a fortification, 
many obstacles will then be in your way: such as 
guardians, the sedan, dressers, parasites, the long robe 
hanging down to the ankles, and covered with an upper 
garment; a multiplicity of circumstances, which will 
hinder you from having a fair- view. The other throws 
no obstacle in your way; through the silken vest you 
may discern her, almost as well as if she was naked; 
that she has neither a bad leg, nor a disagreeable foot, 
you may survey her form perfectly with your eye. Or 
would you choose to have • a trick put upon you, and 
your money extorted, before the goods are shown youf 
[But perhaps you will sing to me these verses out of 
Callimachus.] As the huntsman pursues the hare in 
the deep snow, but disdains to touch when it is placed 
before him: thus sings the rake, and applies it to him¬ 
self; my love is like to this, for it passes over an easy 
prey, and pursues what flies from it. Do you hope that 
grief, and uneasiness, and bitter anxieties, will be ex¬ 
pelled from your breast by such verses as these? Would 
it not be more profitable to inquire what boundary nature 
has affixed to the appetites, what she can patiently do 
without, and what she would lament the deprivation of, 
and to separate what is solid from what is vain? What! 
when thirst parches your jaws, are you solicitous for 
golden cups to drink out of? What! when you are 
hungry, do you despise every thing but peacock and 
turbot? When your passions are inflamed, and a com¬ 
mon gratification is at hand, would you rather be con- 


106 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


Burned with desire than possess it? I would not: for 
I love such pleasures as are of easiest attainment. But 
she whose language is, ‘ ‘ By and by, ’ ’ “ But for a 
small matter more ,’’ “If my husband should be out of 
the way,” [is only] for petit-maitres: and for himself, 
Philodemus says, he chooses her, who neither stands for 
a great price, nor delays to come when she is ordered. 
Let her be fair, and straight, and so far decent as not 
to appear desirous of seeming fairer than nature has 
made her. When I am in the company of such an one, 
she is my Ilia and iEgeria; I give her any name. Nor 
am I apprehensive, while I am in her company, lest 
her husband should return from the country; the door 
should be broken open; the dog should bark; the house, 
shaken, should resound on all sides with a great noise; 
the woman, pale [with fear], should bound away from 
me; lest the maid, conscious [of guilt], should cry out, 
she is undone; lest she should be in apprehension for her 
limbs, the detected wife for her portion, I for myself; 
lest I must run away with my clothes all loose, and 
bare-footed, for fear my money, or my person, or finally 
my character should be demolished. It is a dreadful 
thing to be caught: I could prove this, even if Fabiue 
were the judge. 


SATIRE III. 

We ought to connive at the faults of our friends , and 
all offenses are not to he ranked in the catalogue 
of crimes. 

This is a fault common to all singers, that among 
their friends they never are inclined to sing when they 
are asked, [but] unasked, they never desist. Tigellius, 
that Sardinian, had this [fault]. Had Csesar, who could 
have forced him to compliance, besought him on account 
of his father’s friendship and his own, he would have 
had no success; if he himself was disposed, he would 
chant Io Bacche over and over, from the beginning of 
an entertainment to the very conclusion of it; one while 
at the deepest pitch of his voice, at another time with 


SAT. III. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


107 


that which answers to the highest string of the tetra- 
chord There was nothing uniform in that fellow; 
frequently would he run along, as one flying from an 
enemy; more frequently [he walked], as if he bore [in 
procession] the sacrifice of Juno: he had often two 
hundred slaves, often but ten: one while talking of 
kings and potentates, every thing that was magnificent; 
at another—“Let me have a three-legged table, and 
a cellar of clean salt, and a gown which, though coarse, 
may be sufficient to keep out the cold. ’ ’ Had you given 
ten hundred thousand sesterces to this moderate man 
who was content with such small matters, in five days 
time there would be nothing in his bags. He sat up 
at nights, [even] to day-light; he snored out all the 
day. Never was there any thing so inconsistent with 
itself Now some person may say to me, “What are 
yout’ Have you no faults ?” Yes, others; but others, 
and perhaps of a less culpable nature. <<TT , 

When Msenius railed at Novius m his absence: Hark 
ve ” says a certain person, “are you ignorant of your¬ 
self! or do you think to impose yourself upon us a 
person we do not know?” “As for me, I forgive 
myself,” quoth Meenius. This is a foolish and impious 
self-love, and worthy to be stigmatized. When you look 
over your own vices, winking at them, as it were, with 
sore eyes; why are you with regard to those of your 
friends, as sharp-sighted as an eagle, or the Epidaurian 
serpent? But, on the other hand, it is your lot that 
your friends should inquire into your vices m turn. [A 
certain person] is a little too hasty in his temper; not 
well calculated for the sharp-witted sneers of these 
men* he may be made a jest of because his.gown hangs 
awkwardly, he [at the same time] being trimmed m a 
very rustic manner, and his wide shoe hardly sticks to 
his foot. But he is so good, that no man can be better; 
but he is your friend: but an immense genius is con¬ 
cealed under this unpolished person of his. Finally, 
sift yourself thoroughly, whether nature has originally 
sown the seeds of any vice in you, or even an ill habit 
[has done it]. For the fern, fit [only] to be burned, 
overruns the neglected fields. ... . , , 

Let us return from our digression. As his mistress s 


108 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


disagreeable failings escape the blinded lover, or even 
give him pleasure (as Hagna’s wen does to Balbinus), 
I could wish that we erred in this manner with regard 
to friendship, and that virtue had affixed a reputable 
appellation to such an error. And as a father ought 
not to contemn his son, if he has any defect, in the 
same maimer we ought not [to contemn] our friend. 
The father calls his squinting boy, a pretty leering 
rogue; and if any man has a little despicable brat, such 
as the abortive Sisyphus formerly was, he calls it a 
sweet moppet: this [child] with distorted legs, [the 
father] in a fondling voice calls one of the Vari; and 
another, who is club-footed, he calls a Scaurus. [Thus, 
does] this friend of yours live more sparingly than 
ordinarily? Let him be styled a man of frugality. Is 
another impertinent, and apt to brag a little? He re¬ 
quires to be reckoned entertaining to his friends. But 
[another] is too rude, and takes greater liberties than 
are fitting. Let him be esteemed a man of sincerity 
and bravery. Is he too fiery, let him be numbered among 
persons of spirit. This method, in my opinion, both 
unites friends, and preserves them in a state of union. 
But we invert the very virtues themselves, and are 
desirious of throwing dirt upon the untainted vessel. 
Does a man of probity live among us? he is a person 
of singular diffidence; we give him the name of a dull 
and fat-headed fellow. Does this man avoid every 
snare, and lay himself open to no ill-designing villain; 
since we live amid such a race, where keen envy and 
accusations are flourishing? Instead of a sensible and 
wary man, we call him a disguised and subtle fellow. 
And is any one more open [and less reserved] than 
usual in such a degree as I often have presented myself 
to you, Maecenas, so as perhaps impertinently to in¬ 
terrupt a person reading, or musing, with any kind of 
prate? We cry, “[this fellow] actually wants common 
sense .” Alas! how indiscreetly do we ordain a severe 
law against ourselves! For no one is born without 
vices: he is the best man who is encumbered with the 
least. When my dear friend, as is just, weighs my 
good qualities against my bad ones, let him, if he is 
willing to be beloved, turn the scale to the majority 


sat hi. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


109 


of the former (if I have indeed a majority of good 
qualities), on this condition, he shall be placed in the 
same balance. He who requires that his friend should 
not take offense at his own protuberances, will excuse 
his friend’s little warts. It is fair that he who en¬ 
treats a pardon for his own faults, should grant one 
in his turn. 

Upon the whole, forasmuch as the vice anger, as 
well as others inherent in foolish [mortals], can not 
be totally eradicated, w T hy does not human reason make 
use of its own weights and measures; and so punish 
faults, as the nature of the thing demands? If any man 
should punish with the cross a slave, who being ordered 
to take away the dish should gorge the half-eaten fish 
and warm sauce; he would, among people in their senses, 
be called a madder man than Labeo. How much more 
irrational and heinous a crime is this! Your friend 
has been guilty of a small error (which, unless you 
forgive, you ought to be reckoned a sour, ill-natured 
fellow), you hate and avoid him, as a debtor does 
Ruso; who, when the woeful calends come upon the 
unfortunate man, unless he procures the interest or 
capital by hook or by crook, is compelled to hear his 
miserable stories with his neck stretched out like a 
slave. [Should my friend] in his liquor water my 
couch, or has he thrown down a jar carved by the hands 
of Evander: shall he for this [trifling] affair, or be¬ 
cause in his hunger he has taken a chicken before me 
out of my part of the dish, be the less agreeable friend 
to me? [If so], what could I do if he was guilty of 
theft, or had betrayed things committed to him in con¬ 
fidence, or broken his word. They who are pleased [to 
rank all] faults nearly on an equality, are troubled when 
they come to the truth of the matter: sense and morality 
are against them, and utility itself, the mother almost 
of right and equity. 

When [rude] animals, they crawled forth upon the 
first-formed earth, the mute and dirty herd fought with 
their nails and fists for their acorn and caves, after¬ 
ward with clubs, and finally with arms which experience 
had forged: till they found out words and names, by 
which they ascertained their language and sensations: 


110 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


thenceforward they began to abstain from war, to 
fortify towns, and establish laws: that no person should 
be a thief, a robber, or an adulterer. For before Helen ’s 
time there existed [many] a woman who was the dismal 
cause of war: but those fell by unknown deaths, whom 
pursuing uncertain venery, as the bull in the herd, the 
strongest slew. It must of necessity be acknowledged, 
if you have a mind to turn over the eeras and annals 
of the world, that laws were invented from an appre¬ 
hension of the natural injustice [of mankind]. Nor 
can nature separate what is unjust from what is just, 
in the same manner as she distinguishes what is good 
from its reverse, and what is to be avoided from that 
which is to be sought: nor will reason persuade men to 
this, that he who breaks down the cabbage-stalk of 
his neighbor, sins in as great a measure, and in the 
same manner, as he who steals by night things con¬ 
secrated to the gods. Let there be a settled standard, 
that may inflict adequate punishments upon crimes; 
lest you should persecute any one with the horrible 
thong, who is only deserving of a slight whipping. For 
I am not apprehensive, that you should correct with the 
rod one that deserves to suffer severer stripes; since you 
assert that pilfering is an equal crime with highway 
robbery, and threaten that you would prune off with 
an undistinguishing hook little and great vices, if man¬ 
kind were to give you the sovereignty over them. If 
he be rich, who is wise, and a good shoemaker, and 
alone handsome, and a king, why do you wish for that 
which you are possessed of? You do not understand 
what Chrysippus, the father [of your sect], says: “The 
wise man never made himself shoes nor slippers: never¬ 
theless, the wise man is a shoemaker.’’ How so? In 
the same manner, though Hermogenes be silent, he is 
a fine singer, notwithstanding, and an excellent musi¬ 
cian: as the subtle [lawyer] Alfenus, after every in¬ 
strument of his calling was thrown aside, and his shop 
shut up, was [still] a barber; thus is the wise man of 
all trades, thus is he a king. O greatest of great kings, 
the waggish boys pluck you by the beard; whom unless 
you restrain with your staff, you will be jostled by a 
mob all about you, and you may wretchedly bark and 


sat. iv. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


111 


burst your lungs in vain. Not to be tedious: while you, 
my king, shall go to the farthing bath, and no guard 
shall attend you, except the absurd Crispinus; my dear 
friends will both pardon me in any matter in which 1 
shall foolishly offend, and I in turn will cheerfully put 
up with their faults; and, though a private man, I shall 
live more happily than you, a king. 


SATIRE IY. 

He apologizes for the liberties taken by satiric poets 
in general, and particularly by himself. 

The poets Eupolis, and Cratinus, and Aristophanes, 
and others, who are authors of the ancient comedy, if 
there was any person deserving to be distinguished for 
being a rascal or a thief, an adulterer or a cut-throat, 
or in any shape an infamous fellow, branded him with 
great freedom. Upon these [models] Lucilius entirely 
depends, having imitated them, changing only their feet 
and numbers: a man of wit, of great keenness, inelegant 
in the composition of verse: for in this respect he was 
faulty; he would often, as a great feat, dictate two 
hundred verses in an hour, standing in the same posi¬ 
tion. As he flowed muddily, there was [always] some¬ 
thing that one would wish to remove; he was verbose, 
and too lazy to endure the fatigue of writing—of 
writing accurately: for, with regard to the quantity [of 
his works], I make no acount of it. Seel Crispinus 
challenges me even for ever so little a wager. Take, 
if you dare, take your tablets, and I will take mine; 
let there be a place, a time, and persons appointed to 
see fair play: let us see who can write the most. The 
gods have done a good part by me, since they have 
framed me of an humble and meek disposition, speak¬ 
ing but seldom, briefly: but do you, [Crispinus,] as 
much as you will, imitate air which is shut up in 
leathern bellows, perpetually puffing till the fire softens 
the iron. Fannius is a happy man, who, of his own 
accord, has presented his manuscripts and picture [to 
the Palatine Apollo]; when not a soul will peruse my 


112 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


writings, who am afraid to rehearse in public, on this 
account, because there are certain persons who can by 
no means relish this kind [of satiric writing], as there 
are very many who deserve censure. Single any man 
out of the crowd; he either labors under a covetous 
disposition, or under wretched ambition. One is mad 
in love with married women, another with youths; a 
third the splendor of silver captivates: Albius is in 
raptures with brass; another exchanges his merchandize 
from the rising sun, even to that with which the western 
regions are warmed; but he is hurried headlong through 
dangers, as dust wrapped up in a whirlwind; in dread 
lest he should lose any thing out of his capital, or 
[in hope] that he may increase his store. All these 
are afraid of verses, they hate poets. ‘ ‘ He has hay 
on his horn, [they cry;] avoid him at a great distance: 
if he can but raise a laugh for his own diversion, he 
will not spare any friend: and whatever he has once 
blotted upon his paper, he will take a pleasure in letting 
all the boys and old women know, as they return from 
the bakehouse or the lake. ’ ’ But, come on, attend to a 
few words on the other side of the question. 

In the first place, I will except myself out of the 
number of those I would allow to be poets: for one 
must not call it sufficient to tag a verse: nor if any 
person, like me, writes in a style bordering on con¬ 
versation, must you esteem him to be a poet. To him 
who has genius, who has a soul of a diviner cast, and 
a greatness of expression, give the honor of this ap¬ 
pellation. On this account some have raised the ques¬ 
tion, whether comedy be a poem or not; because an 
animated spirit and force is neither in the style, nor 
the subject-matter: bating that it differs from prose 
by a certain measure, it is mere prose. But [one may 
object to this, that even in comedy] an inflamed father 
rages, because his dissolute son, mad after a prostitute 
mistress, refuses a wife with a large portion; and 
(what is an egregious scandal) rambles about drunk 
with flambeaux by day-light. Yet could Pomponious, 
were his father alive, hear less severe reproofs! Where¬ 
fore it is not sufficient to write verses merely in proper 
language; which, if you take to pieces, any person may 


SAT- IV 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


113 


storm in the same manner as the father in the play, 
if from these verses which I write at this present, or 
inose that Lueilius did formerly, you take away certain 
pauses and measures, and make that word which was 
lust in order hindermost, by placing the latter [words] 
before those that preceded [in the verse]; you will not 
discern the limbs of a poet, when pulled in pieces, in 
the same manner as you would were you to transpose 
ever so [these lines of Ennius] r 


When discord dreadful bursts the brazen bars. 

And shatters iron locks to thunder forth her wars. 

So far of this matter; at another opportunity [I may 
investigate] whether [a comedy] be a true poem or not: 
now 1 shall only consider this point, whether this 
r satiric] kind of writing be deservedly an object of your 
suspicion. Sulcius the virulent, and Capnus hoarse 
with their malignancy, walk [openly], and with their 
libels too [in their hands]; each of them a singular 
terror to robbers: but if a man lives honestly and with 
clean hands, he may despise them both. Though you 
be like highwaymen, Ccelus and Byrrhus, I am not [a 
common accuser], like Caprius and Sulcius; why should 
you be afraid of me? No shop nor stall holds my 
books, which the sweaty hands of the vulgar and of 
Hermogenes Tigellius may soil. I repeat to nobody, 
except my intimates, and that when I am pressed; nor 
any where, and before any body. There are many who 
recite their writings in the middle of the forum; and 
who [do it] while bathing: the closeness of the place, 
[it seems,] gives melody to the voice. This pleases 
coxcombs, who never consider whether they do this to 
no purpose, or at an unseasonable time. But you, says 
he, delight to hurt people, and this you do out of a 
mischievous disposition. From what source do you throw 
this calumny upon me? Is any one the ? y° u 5. VOU ^ he n / 
with whom I have lived? He who backbites his absent 
friend; [nay more,] who does not defend, at another s 
accusing him; who affects to raise loud laughs in com¬ 
pany, and the reputation of a funny fellow who can 
feign things he never saw; who can not keep secrets, 
he is a dangerous man: be you, Roman, aware of him. 


114 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


You may often see it [even in crowded companies], 
where twelve sup together on three couches; one of 
which shall delight at any rate to asperse the rest, ex¬ 
cept him who furnishes the bath; and him too afterward 
in his liquor, when truth-telling Bacchus open the secrets 
of his heart. Yet this man seems entertaining, and 
well-bred and frank to you, who are an enemy to the 
malignant: but do I, if I have laughed because the fop 
Rufillus smells all perfumes, and Gorgonius, like a he- 
goat, appear invidious and a snarler to you? If by 
any means mention happen to be made of the thefts 
of Petillius Capitolinus in your company, you defend 
him after your manner: [and thus,] Capitolinus has had 
me for a companion and a friend from childhood, and 
being applied to, has done many things on my account: 
and I am glad that he lives secure in the city; but I 
wonder, notwithstanding, how he evaded that sentence. 
This is the very essence of black malignity, this is mere 
malice itself: which crime, that it shall be far remote 
from my writings, and prior to them from my mind, I 
promise, if I can take upon me to promise any thing 
sincerely of myself. If I shall say any thing too freely, 
if perhaps too ludicrously, you must favor me by your 
indulgence with this allowance. For my excellent father 
inured me to this custom, that by noting each par¬ 
ticular vice I might avoid it by the example [of others]. 
When he exhorted me that I should live thriftily, 
frugally, and content with what he had provided for 
me; don’t you see, [would he say,] how wretchedly the 
son of Albius lives? and how miserably Barrus? A 
strong lesson to hinder any one from squandering away 
his patrimony. When he would deter me from filthy 
fondness for a light woman: [take care, said he,] that 
you do not resemble Sectanus. That I might not follow 
adulteresses, when I could enjoy a lawful amour: the 
character, cried he, of Trebonius, who was caught in 
the fact, is by no means creditable. The philosopher 
may tell you the reasons for what is better to be avoided, 
and what to be pursued. It is sufficient for me, if I 
can preserve the morality of tradition from my fore¬ 
fathers, and keep your life and reputation inviolate, 
so long as you stand in need of a guardian: so soon 


sat v. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


115 


as age shall have strengthened your limbs and mind, 
you will swim without cork. In this manner he formed 
me, as yet a boy: and whether he ordered me to do 
any particular thing: You have an authority for doing 
this: [then] he instanced some one out of the select 
magistrates: or did he forbid me [any thing]; can you 
doubt, [says he, j whether this thing be dishonorable, 
and against your interest to be done, when this person 
and the other is become such a burning shame for his 
bad character [on these accounts] ? As a neighboring 
funeral dispirits sick gluttons, and through fear of 
death forces them to have mercy upon themselves; so 
other men 7 s disgraces often deter tender minds from 
vices. From this [method of education] I am clear 
from all such vices, as bring destruction along with 
them: by lighter foibles, and such as you may excuse, 
I am possessed. And even from these, perhaps, a 
maturer age, the sincerity of a friend, or my own judg¬ 
ment, may make great reductions. For neither when I 
am in bed, or in the piazzas, am I wanting to myself: 
this way of proceeding is better; by doing such a thing 
I shall live more comfortably; by this means I shall 
render myself agreeable to my friends; such a transaction 
was not clever; what, shall I, at any time, imprudently 
commit any thing like it? These things I resolve in 
silence by myself. When I have any leisure, I amuse 
myself with my papers. This is one of those lighter 
foibles [I was speaking of] : to which if you do not 
grant your indulgence, a numerous band of poets shall 
come, which will take my part (for we are many more 
in number), and, like the Jews, we will force you to 
come over to our numerous party. 

SATIRE Y. 

He describes a certain journey of his from Some to 
Brundusium with great pleasantry. 

Having left mighty Rome, Aricia received me in 
but a middling inn: Heliodorus the rhetorician, most 
learned in the Greek language, was my fellow-traveler: 
then we proceeded to Forum-Appi, stuffed with sailors 


116 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


and surly landlords. This stage, but one for better 
travelers than we, being laggard we divided into two; 
the Appian way is less tiresome to bad travelers. Here 
I, on account of the water, which was most vile, pro¬ 
claim war against my belly, waiting not without im¬ 
patience for my companions while at supper. Now, the 
night was preparing to spread her shadows upon the 
earth, and to display the constellations in the heavens. 
Then our slaves began to be liberal of their abuse to 
the watermen, and the watermen to our slaves. ‘ 1 Here 
bring to.” “You are stowing in hundreds; hold, now 
sure there is enough. ’ ’ Thus while the fare is paid, and the 
mule fastened, a whole hour is passed away. The cursed 
gnats, and frogs of the fens, drive off repose. While 
the waterman and a passenger, well-soaked with plenty 
of thick wine, vie with one another in singing the praises 
of their absent mistresses: at length the passenger being 
fatigued, begins to sleep; and the lazy waterman ties 
the halter of the mule, turned out a-grazing, to a stone, 
and snores, lying flat on his back. And now the day 
approached, when we saw the boat made no way; until 
a choleric fellow, one of the passengers leaps out of the 
boat, and drubs the head and sides of both mule and 
waterman with a willow cudgel. At last we were 
scarcely set ashore at the fourth hour. We wash our 
faces and hands in thy water, O Feronia. Then, having 
dined, we crawled on three miles; and arrive under 
Anxur, which is built upon rocks that look white to a 
great distance. Maecenas was to come here, as was the 
excellent Cocceius, both sent embassadors on matters 
of great importance; having been accustomed to recon¬ 
cile friends at variance. Here, having got sore eyes, I 
was obliged to use the black ointment. In the mean 
time came Maecenas, and Cocceius, and Fonteius Capito 
along with them, a man of perfect polish, and intimate 
with Mark Antony, no man more so. 

Without regret we passed Fundi, where Aufidius 
Luscus was praetor, laughing at the honors of that crazy 
scribe, his praetexta, laticlave, and pan of incense. At 
our next stage, being weary, we tarry in the city of the 
Mamurrae, Murena complimenting us with his house, and 
Capito with his kitchen. 


BAT. V. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


117 


The next day arises, by much the most agreeable to 
all: for Plotius, and Varius, and Virgil met us at 
Sinuessa; souls more candid ones than which the world 
never produced, nor is there a person in the world more 
bound to them than myself. Oh what embraces, and 
what transports were there! While I am in my senses, 
nothing can I prefer to a pleasant friend. The village, 
which is next adjoining to the bridge of Campania, ac¬ 
commodated us with lodging [at night]; and the public 
officers with such a quantity of fuel and salt as they are 
obliged to [by law]. From this place the mules deposited 
their pack-saddles at Capua betimes [m the morning]. 
Ma;cenas goes to play [at tennis] ; but I and irgi ? 
our repose: for to play at tennis is hurtful to weak 
eyes and feeble constitutions. . , , , 

From this place the villa of Coceeius, situated above 
the Caudian inns, which abounds with plenty, receives 
us. Now, my muse, I beg of you briefly to relate the 
engagement between the buffoon Sarmentus and Messiu 
Cicirrus; and from what ancestry descended each began 
the contest. The illustrious race of Messius—Oscan: 
Sarmentus’s mistress is still alive. Sprung from such 
families as these, they came to the combat ■First, 
Sarmentus: “I pronounce thee to have the look of a 

mad horse.” We laugh; and Messius himself [says], 
“I accept your challenge:” and wags his head. O. 
cries he, “if the horn were not cut off your forehead, 
what would you not do; since, maimed as y ° u ^ 
bully at such a rate?” For a foul scar has disgraced 
the left part of Messius’s bristly forehead. Cutting many 
jokes upon his Campanian disease, and upon his face, 
he desired him to exhibit Polyphemus s dance: that he 
had no occasion for a mask, or the tragic buskins. 
Cicirrus [retorted] largely to these: he asked, whether 
he had consecrated his chain to the household gods a - 
cording to his vow; though he was a scribe, [he told 
him] his mistress’s property m him was not the less. 
Lastly, he asked, how he ever came to run away; such 
lank meager fellow, for whom a pound of corn [a-day] 
would be ample. We were so diverted, that we continued 
that, supper to an unusual length. • , „ 

Hence we proceed straight on for Beneventum; where 



118 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


the bustling landlord almost burned himself, in roasting 
some lean thrushes: for, the fire falling through the old 
kitchen [floor], the spreading flame made a great progress 
toward the highest part of the roof. Then you might 
have seen the hungry guests and frightened slaves snatch¬ 
ing their supper out [of the flames], and every body 
endeavoring to extinguish the fire. 

After this Apulia began to discover to me her well- 
known mountains, which the Atabulus scorches [with his 
blasts]: and through which we should never have crept, 
unless the neighboring village of Trivicus had received 
us, not without a smoke that brought tears into our 
eyes; occasioned by a hearth’s burning some green 
boughs with the leaves upon them. Here, like a great 
fool as I was, I wait till midnight for a deceitful mis¬ 
tress: sleep, however, overcomes me, while meditating 
love; and disagreeable dreams make me ashamed of 
myself and every thing about me. 

Hence we were bowled away in chaises twenty-four 
miles, intending to stop at a little town, which one can 
not name in a verse, but it is easily enough known by 
description. For water is sold here, though the worst 
in the world; but their bread is exceeding fine, inas¬ 
much that the weary traveler is used to carry it willingly 
on his shoulders: for [the bread] at Canusium is gritty; 
a pitcher of water is worth no more [than it is here]: 
which place was formerly built by the valiant Diomedes. 
Here Yarius departs dejected from his weeping friends. 

Hence we came to Rubi, fatigued: because we made 
a long journey, and it was rendered still more trouble¬ 
some by the rains. Next day the weather was better, 
the road worse, even to the very walls of Barium that 
abounds in fish. In the next place Egnatia, which 
[seems to have] been built on troubled waters, gave us 
occasion for jests and laughter; for they wanted to 
persuade us, that at this sacred portal the incense melted 
without fire. The Jew Apella may believe this, not I. 
For I have learned [from Epicurus], that the gods dwell 
in a state of tranquillity; nor, if nature effect any 
wonder, that the anxious gods send it from the high 
canopy of the heavens. 

Brundusium ends both my long journey, and my paper. 


sat. vi. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


119 


SATIRE YI. 

Of true nobility. 

Not Maecenas, though of all the Lydians that ever 
inhabited the Tuscan territories, no one is of a nobler 
family than yourself; and though you have ancestors 
both on father’s and mother’s side, that in times past 
have had the command of mighty legions; do you, as 
the generality are wont, toss up your nose at obscure 
people, such as me, who had [only] a freed-man for 
my father: since you affirm that it is of no consequence 
of what parents any man is born, so that he be a man 
of merit. You persuade yourself, with truth, that before 
the dominions of Tullius, and the reign of one born a 
slave, frequently numbers of men descended from an¬ 
cestors of no rank, have both lived as men of merit, 
and have been distinguished by the greatest honors: 
[while] on the other hand Laevinus, the descendant of 
that famous Valerius, by whose means Tarquinius 
Superbus was expelled from his kingdom, was not a 
farthing more esteemed [on account of his family, even] 
in the judgment of the people, with whose disposition 
you are well acquainted; who often foolishly bestow 
honors on the unworthy, and are from their stupidity 
slaves to a name: who are struck with admiration by 
inscriptions and statues. What is fitting for us to do, 
who are far, very far removed from the vulgar [in our 
sentiments]? For grant it, that the people had rather 
confer a dignity on a Laevinus than on Decius, who is 
a new man; and the censor Appius would expel me [the 
senate-house], because I was not sprung from a sire of 
distinction: and that too deservedly, inasmuch as I 
rested not content in my own condition. But glory 
drags in her dazzling car the obscure as closely fettered 
as those of nobler birth. What did it profit you, O 
Tullius, to resume the robe that you [were forced] to 
lay aside, and become a tribune [again] ? Envy increased 
upon you, which had been less, if you had remained 
in a private station. For when any crazy fellow has 
laced the middle. of his leg with the sable buskins, 


120 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


and has let flow the purple robe from his breast, he 
immediately hears: “Who is this man? Whose son is 
he?’* Just as if there be any one, wKo labors under 
the same distemper as Barrus does, so that he is ambi¬ 
tious of being reckoned handsome; let him go where 
he will, he excites curiosity among the girls of inquiring 
into particulars; as what sort of face, leg, foot, teeth, 
hair, he has. Thus he who engages to his citizens to 
take care of the city, the empire, and Italy, and the 
sanctuaries of the gods, forces every mortal to be 
solicitous, and to ask from what sire he is descended, 
or whether he is base by the obscurity of his mother. 
What? do you, the son of a Syrus, a Dama, or a 
Dionysius, dare to cast down the citizens of Rome from 
the [Tarpeian] rock, or deliver them up to Cadmus [the 
executioner] ? But, [you may say,] my colleague Novius 
sits below me by one degree: for he is only what my 
father was. And therefore do you esteem yourself a 
Paulus or a Messala? But he (Novius), if two hun¬ 
dred carriages and three funerals were to meet in the 
forum, could make noise enough to drown all their 
horns and trumpets: this [kind of merit] at least has 
its weight with us. 

Now I return to myself, who am descended from a 
freed-man; whom every body nibbles at, as being de¬ 
scended from a freed-man. Now, because, Maecenas, I 
am a constant guest of yours; but formerly, because 
a Roman legion was under my command, as being a 
military tribune. This latter case is different from the 
former: for, though any person perhaps might justly 
envy me that post of honor, yet could he not do so 
with regard to your being my friend! especially as you 
are cautious to admit such as are worthy; and are far 
from having any sinister ambitious views. I can not 
reckon myself a lucky fellow on this account, as if it 
were by accident that I got you for my friend; for 
no kind of accident threw you in my way. That best 
of men, Virgil, long ago, and after him, Varius, told 
you what I was. When first I came into your presence, 
I spoke a few words in a broken manner (for childish 
bashfulness hindered me from speaking more); I did 
not tell you that I was the issue of an illustrious father: 


sat. vi. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


121 


I did not [pretend] that I rode about the country on 
a Satureian horse, but plainly what I really was; you 
answer (as your custom is) a few words: I depart: and 
you re-invite me after the ninth month, and command 
me to be in the number of your friends. I esteem it 
a great thing that I pleased you, who distinguish probity 
from baseness, not by the illustriousness of a father, 
but by the purity of heart and feelings. 

And yet if my disposition be culpable for a few faults, 
and those small ones, otherwise perfect (as if you 
should condemn moles scattered over a beautiful skin), 
if no one can justly lay to my charge avarice, nor 
sordidness, nor impure haunts; if, in fine (to speak 
in my own praise), I live undefiled, and innocent, and 
dear to my friends; my father was the cause of all 
this: who though a poor man on a lean farm, was 
unwilling to send me to a school under [the pedant] 
Flavius, where great boys, sprung from great centurions, 
having their satchels and tablets swung over their left 
arm, used to go with money in their hands the very 
day it was due; but had the spirit to bring me a child 
to Rome, to be taught those arts which any Roman 
knight and senator can teach his own children. So that, 
if any person had considered my dress, and the slaves 
who attended me in so populous a city, he would have 
concluded that those expenses were supplied to me out 
of some hereditary estate. He himself, of all others 
the most faithful guardian, was constantly about every 
one of my preceptors. Why should I multiply words? 
He preserved me chaste (which is the first honor of 
virtue) not only from every actual guilt, but likewise 
from [every] foul imputation, nor was he afraid lest 
any should turn it to his reproach, if I should come to 
follow a business attended with small profits, in capacity 
of an auctioneer, or (what he was himself) a tax- 
gatherer. Nor [had that been the case] should I have 
complained. On this account the more praise is due 
to him, and from me a greater degree of gratitude. As 
long as I am in my senses, I can never be ashamed of 
such a father as this, and therefore shall not apologize 
[for my birth], in the manner that numbers do, by 
affirming it to be no fault of theirs. My language and 


122 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


way of thinking is far different from such persons. 
For if nature were to make us from a certain term of 
years to go over our past time again, and [suffer us] 
to choose other parents such as every man for ostenta¬ 
tion’s sake would wish for himself! I, content with 
my own, would not assume those that are honored with 
the ensigns and seats of state; [for which I should 
seem] a madman in the opinion of the mob, but in yours, 
I hope a man of sense; because I should be unwilling 
to sustain a troublesome burden, being by no means 
used to it. For I must [then] immediately set about 
acquiring a larger fortune, and more people must be 
complimented; and this and that companion must be 
taken along, so that I could neither take a jaunt into 
the country, or a journey by myself; more attendants 
and more horses must be fed; coaches must be drawn. 
Now, if I please, I can go as far as Tarentum on my 
bob-tailed mule, whose loins the portmanteau galls with 
his weight, as does the horseman his shoulders. No one 
will lay to my charge such sordidness as he may, Tullius, 
to you, when five slaves follow you, a praBtor, along the 
Tiburtian way, carrying a traveling kitchen, and a 
vessel of wine. Thus I live more comfortably, O illustri¬ 
ous senator, than you, and than thousands of others. 
Wherever I have a fancy, I walk by myself: I inquire 
the price of herbs and bread: I traverse the tricking 
circus, and the forum often in the evening: I stand 
listening among the fortune-tellers: thence I take myself 
home to a plate of onions, pulse, and pancakes. My 
supper is served up by three slaves; and a white stone 
slab supports two cups and a brimmer: near the salt¬ 
cellar stands a homely cruet with a little bowl, earthen¬ 
ware from Campania. Then I go to rest; by no means 
concerned that I must rise in the morning, and pay a 
visit to the statue of Marsyas, who denies that he is 
able to bear the look of the younger Novius. I lie 
a-bed to the fourth hour; after that I take a ramble, 
or having read or written what may amuse me in my 
privacy, I am anointed with oil, but not with such as 
the nasty Nacca, when he robs the lamps. But when 
the sun, become more violent, has reminded me to go 
to bathe, I avoid the Campus Martius and the game of 


BAT. VII. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


123 


hand-ball. Having dined in a temperate manner, just 
enough to hinder me from having an empty stomach, 
during the rest of the day I trifle in my own house. 
This is the life of those who are free from wretched and 
burthensome ambition: with such things as these I 
comfort myself, in a way to live more delightfully than 
if my grandfather had been a queestor, and father and 
uncle too. 


SATIRE VII. 

He humorously describes a squabble betwixt Bupilius 
and Persius. 

In what manner the mongrel Persius revenged the 
filth and venom of Rupilius, surnamed King, is I think 
known to all the blind men and barbers. This Persius, 
being a man of fortune, had very great business at 
Clazomenae, and, into the bargain, certain troublesome 
litigations with King; a hardened fellow, and one who 
was able to exceed even King in virulence; confident, 
blustering, of such a bitterness of speech, that he would 
outstrip the Sisennae and Barri, if ever so well equipped. 

I return to King. After nothing could be settled 
betwixt them (for people among whom adverse war 
breaks out, are proportionately vexatious on the same 
acount as they are brave. Thus between Hector, the 
eon of Priam, and the high-spirited Achilles, the rage 
was of so capital a nature, that only the final destruc¬ 
tion [of one of them] could determine it; on no other 
account, than that valor in each of them was consum¬ 
mate. If discord sets two cowards to work; or if an 
engagement happens between two that are not of a 
match, as that of Diomed and the Lycian Glaucus; the 
worse man will walk off, [buying his peace] by volun¬ 
tarily sending presents), when Brutus held as praetor 
the fertile Asia, this pair, Rupilius and Persius, en¬ 
countered; in such a manner, that [the gladiators] 
Bacchius and Bithus were not better matched. Impetu¬ 
ous they hurry to the cause, each of them a fine sight. 

Persius opens his case; and is laughed at by all the 


124 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


assembly; he extols Brutus, and extols the guard; he 
styles Brutus the sun of Asia, and his attendants he 
styles salutary stars, all except King; that he [he says,] 
came like that dog, the constellation hateful to husband¬ 
man: he poured along like a wintery flood, where the 
ax seldom comes. 

Then, upon his running on in so smart and fluent a 
manner, the Pramestine [king] directs some witticisms 
squeezed from the vineyard, himself a hardy vine-dresser, 
never defeated, to whom the passenger had often been 
obliged to yield, bawling cuckoo with roaring voice. 

But the Grecian Persius, as soon as he had been well 
sprinkled with Italian vinegar, bellows out: O Brutus, 
by the great gods I conjure you, who are accustomed 
to take off kings, why do you not dispatch this King? 
Believe me, this is a piece of work which of right 
belongs to you. 


SATIRE VIII. 

Priapus complains that the Esquilian mount is infested 
with the incantations of sorceresses. 

Formerly I was the trunk of a wild fig-tree, an use¬ 
less log: when the artificer, in doubt whether he should 
make a stool or a Priapus of me, determined that I 
should be a god. Henceforward I became a god, the 
greatest terror of thieves and birds: for my right hand 
restrains thieves, and a bloody-looking pole stretched 
out from my frightful middle: but a reed fixed upon 
the crown of my head terrifies the mischievous birds, 
and hinders them from settling in these new gardens. 
Before this the fellow-slave bore dead corpses thrown 
out of their narrow cells to this place, in order to be 
deposited in paltry coffins. This place stood a common 
sepulcher for the miserable mob, for the buffoon 
Pantolabus, and Nomentanus the rake. Here a column 
assigned a thousand feet [of ground] in front, and three 
hundred toward the fields: that the burial-place should 
not descend to the heirs of the estate. Now one may 
live in the Esquiliae, [since it is made] a healthy place; 
and walk upon an open terrace, where lately the melan- 


sat. viii. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


125 


choly passengers beheld the ground frightful with white 
bones; though both the thieves and wild beasts accus¬ 
tomed to infest this place, do not occasion me so much 
care and trouble, as do [these hags], that turn people's 
minds by their incantations and drugs. These I can 
not by any means destroy or hinder, but that they will 
gather bones and noxious herbs, as soon as the fleeting 
moon has shown her beauteous face. 

I myself saw Canidia, with her sable garment tucked 
up, walk with bare feet and disheveled hair, yelling 
together with the elder Sagana. Paleness had rendered 
both of them horrible to behold. They began to claw 
up the earth with their nails, and to tear a black ewe- 
lamb to pieces with their teeth. The blood was poured 
into a ditch, that thence they might charm out the 
shades of the dead, ghosts that were to give them an¬ 
swers. There was a woolen effigy too, another of wax: 
the woolen one larger, which to inflict punishment on 
the little one. The waxen stood in a suppliant posture, 
as ready to perish in a servile manner. One of the 
hags invokes Hecate, and the other fell Tisiphone. Then 
might you see serpents and infernal bitches wander 
about; and the moon with blushes hiding behind the 
lofty monuments, that she might not be a witness to 
these doings. But if I lie, even a tittle, may my head 
be contaminated with the white filth of ravens; and may 
Julius, and the effeminate Miss Pediatous, and the 
knave Voranus, come to water upon me, and befoul me. 
Why should I mention every particular? viz. in what 
manner, speaking alternately with Sagana, the ghosts 
uttered dismal and piercing shieks; and how by stealth 
they laid in the earth a wolf’s beard, with the teeth 
of a spotted snake; and how a great blaze flamed forth 
from the waxen image? And how I was shocked at the 
voices and actions of these two furies, a spectator how¬ 
ever by no means incapable of revenge? For from my 
cleft body of fig-tree wood I uttered a loud noise with 
as great an explosion as a burst bladder. But they ran 
into the city: and with exceeding laughter and diversion 
might you have seen Canidia’s artificial teeth, and 
Sagana’s towering tete of false hair falling off, and 
the herbs, and the enchanted bracelets from her arms. 


126 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


SATIRE IX. 

He describes liis sufferings from the loquacity of an 
impertinent fellow. 

I was accidentally going along the Via Sacra, medi¬ 
tating on some trifle or other, as is my custom, and 
totally intent upon it. A certain person, known to me 
by name only, runs up; and, having seized my hand, 
‘‘How do you do, my dearest fellow?” “Tolerably 
well, ’ ’ says I, “as times go; and I wish you every thing 
you can desire.” When he still followed me; “Would 
you anything?” said I to him. But, “You know me,” 
says he: “I am a man of learning.” “Upon that 

account,” says I: “you will have more of my esteem.” 
Wanting sadly to get away from him, sometimes I 
walked on space, now and then I stopped, and I whis¬ 
pered something to my boy. When the sweat ran down 
to the bottom of my ankles. O, said I to myself, 
Bolanus, how happy were you in a headpiece! Mean¬ 
while he kept prating on any thing that came uppermost, 
praised the streets, the city; and, when I made him no 
answer; “You want terribly,” said he “to get away; 
I perceived it long ago; but you effect nothing. I 
shall still stick close to you; I shall follow you hence: 
where are you at present bound for?” “There is no 
need for your being carried so much about: I want to 
see a person, who is unknown to you: he lives a great 
way off across the Tiber, just by Caesar’s gardens.” “I 
have nothing to do, and I am not lazy; I will attend 
you thither.” I hang down my ears like an ass of 
surly disposition, when a heavier load than ordinary is 
put upon his back. He begins again: “If I am 
tolerably acquainted with myself, you will not esteem 
Yiscus or Varius as a friend, more than me; for who 
can write more verses, or in a shorter time than I? 
Who can move his limbs with softer grace [in the 
dance] ? And then I sing, so that even Hermogenes 
may envy.” 

Here there was an opportunity of interrupting him. 
‘ 1 Have you a mother, [or any] relations that are in- 


sat. ix. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


127 


terested in your welfare?” “Not one have I; I have 
buried them all.” “Happy they! now I remain. Dis¬ 
patch me: for the fatal moment is at hand, which an 
old Sabine sorceress, having shaken her divining urn, 
foretold when I was a boy; ‘This child, neither shall 
cruel poison, nor the hostile sword, nor pleurisy, nor 
cough, nor the crippling gout destroy: a babbler shall 
one day demolish him; if he be wise, let him avoid talk¬ 
ative people, as soon as he comes to man’s estate.’ ’ 

One fourth of the day being now passed, we came 
to Vesta’s temple; and, as good luck would have it, he 
was obliged to appear to his recognizance; which unless 
he did, he must have lost his cause. ‘ ‘ If you love me, ’ ’ 
said he, “step in here a little.” “May I die! if I be 
either able to stand it out, or have any knowledge of 
the civil laws: and besides, I am in a hurry, you know 
whither. ” “I am in doubt what I shall do, ’ ’ said 
he; “whether desert you or my cause.” “Me, I beg 
of you.” “I will not do it,” said he; and began to 
take the lead of me. I (as it is difficult to contend 
with one’s master) follow him. “How stands it with 
Maecenas and you?” Thus he begins his prate again. 
“He is one of few intimates, and of a very wise way 
of thinking. No man ever made use of opportunity with 
more cleverness. You should have a powerful assistant, 
who could play an underpart, if you were disposed to 
recommend this man; may I perish, if you should not 
supplant all the rest!” “We do not live there in the 
manner you imagine; there is not a house that is freer 
or more remote from evils of this nature. It is never 
of any disservice to me, that any particular person is 
wealthier or a better scholar than I am: every individual 
has his proper place.” “You tell me a marvelous 
thing, scarcely credible.” “But it is even so.” “You 
the more inflame my desires to be near his person.” 
“You need only be inclined to it: such is your merit, 
you will accomplish it: and he is capable of being won; 
and on that account the first access to him he makes 
difficult.” “I will not be wanting to myself: I will 
corrupt his servants with presents; if I am excluded 
to-day, I will not desist; I will seek opportunities; I 
will meet him in the public streets; I will wait upon 


128 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


him home. Life allows nothing to mortals without great 
labor. ’ ’ While he was running on at this rate, lo! 
Fuscus Aristius comes up, a dear friend of mine, and 
one who knows the fellow well. We make a stop. 
“Whence come you? whither are you going?” he asks 
and answers. I began to twitch him [by the elbow], 
and to take hold of his arms [that were affectedly] 
passive, nodding and distorting my eyes, that he might 
rescue me. Cruelly arch he laughs, and pretends not to 
take the hint: anger galled my liver. ‘‘Certainly,’’ 
[said I, “Fuscus,] you said that you wanted to com¬ 
municate something to me in private.” “I remember 
it very well; but will tell it to you at a better oppor¬ 
tunity: to-day is the thirtieth sabbath. Would you af¬ 
front the circumcised Jews?” I reply, “I have no 
scruple [on that account].’’ “But I have: I am some¬ 
thing weaker, one of the multitude. You must forgive 
me: I will speak with you on another occasion.” And 
has this sun arisen so disastrous upon me! The wicked 
rogue runs away, and leaves me under the knife. But 
by luck his adversary met him: and, “Whither are 
you going, you infamous fellow?” roars he with a loud 
voice: and, “Do you witness the arrest?” I assent. He 
hurries him into court: there is a great clamor on both 
sides, a mob from all parts. Thus Apollo preserved me. 


SATIRE X. 

Be supports the judgment which he had before given 
of Lucilius, and intersperses some excellent precepts 
for the writing of Satire. 

To be sure I did say, that the verses of Lucilius did 
not run smoothly. Who is so foolish an admirer of 
Lucilius, that he would not own this? But the same 
writer is applauded in the same Satire, on account of 
his having lashed the town with great humor. Never¬ 
theless granting him this, I will not therefore give up 
the other [considerations]; for at that rate I might 
even admire the farces of Laberius, as fine poems. 
Hence it is by no means sufficient to make an auditor 


SAT. X. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


129 


grin with laughter: and yet there is some degree of 
merit even in this. There is need of conciseness that 
the sentence may run, and not embarrass itself with 
verbiage, that overloads the sated ear; and sometimes 
a grave, frequently jocose style is necessary, support¬ 
ing the character one while of the orator, and [at 
another] of the poet, now and then that of a graceful 
rallier that curbs the force of his pleasantry and weakens 
it on purpose. For ridicule often decides matters of 
importance more effectually and in a better manner, 
than severity. Those poets by whom the ancient comedy 
was written, stood upon this [foundation], and in this 
are they worthy of imitation: whom neither the smooth¬ 
faced Hermogenes ever read, nor the baboon who is 
skilled in nothing but singing [the wanton compositions 
of] Calvus and Catullus. 

But [Lucilius, say they,] did a great thing, when he 
intermixed Greek words with Latin. O late-learned 
dunces! What! do you think that arduous and ad¬ 
mirable, which was done by Pitholeo the Rhodian? But 
[still they cry] the style elegantly composed of both 
.tongues is the more pleasant, as if Falernian wine is 
mixed with Chian. When you make verses, I ask you 
this question; were you to undertake the difficult cause 
of the accused Petillius, would you (for instance), for¬ 
getful of your country and your father, while Pedius, 
Poplicola, and Corvinus sweat through their causes in 
Latin, choose to intermix words borrowed from abroad, 
like the double-tongued Canusinian. And as for myself, 
who was born on this side of the water, when I was 
about making Greek verses; Romulus appearing to me 
after midnight, when dreams are true, forbade me m 
words to this effect; “You could not be guilty of more 
madness by carrying timber into a wood, than by 
desiring to throng in among the great crowds of Grecian 

writers. ” n , 

While bombastical Alpinus murders Memnon, and 
while he deforms the muddy source of the Rhine, I 
amuse myself with these satires; which can neither be 
recited in the temple [of Apollo], as contesting for the 
prize when Tarpa presides as judge, nor can have a 
run over and over again represented in the theaters. 


130 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK L 


You, O Fundanius, of all men breathing, are the most 
capable of prattling tales in a comic vein, how an artful 
courtesan and a Davus impose upon an old Chremes: 
Pollio sings the action of kings in iambic measure; the 
sublime Yarius composes the manly epic, in a manner 
that no one can equal: to Virgil the Muses, delighting 
in rural scenes, have granted the delicate and the elegant. 
It was this kind [of satiric writing], the Aticinian 
Varro and some others having attempted it without 
success, in which I may have some slight merit, inferior 
to the inventor: nor would I presume to pull off the 
[laurel] crown placed upon his brow with great applause. 

But I said that he flowed muddily, frequently indeed 
bearing along more things which ought to be taken away 
than left. Be it so; do you, who are a scholar, find no 
fault with any thing in mighty Homer, I pray? Does 
the facetious Lucilius make no alterations in the trage¬ 
dies of Accius? Does not he ridicule many of Ennius’ 
verses, which are too light for the gravity [of the 
subject] ? When he speaks of himself by no means as 
superior to what he blames. What should hinder me 
likewise, when I am reading the works of Lucilius, from 
inquiring whether it be his [genius], or the difficult 
nature of his subject, that will not suffer his verses to 
be more finished, and to run more smoothly than if 
some one, thinking it sufficient to conclude a something 
of six feet, be fond of writing two hundred verses before 
he eats, and as many after supper? Such was the 
genius of the Tuscan Cassius, more impetuous than a 
rapid river; who, as it is reported, was burned [at the 
funeral pile] with his own books and papers. Let it 
be allowed, I say, that Lucilius was a humorous and 
polite writer; that he was also more correct than [En¬ 
nius], the author of a kind of poetry [not yet] well 
cultivated, nor attempted by, the Greeks, and [more cor¬ 
rect likewise] than the tribe of our old poets: but yet 
he, if he had been brought down by the Fates to this 
age of ours, would have retrenched a great deal from 
his writings: he would have pruned off every thing that 
transgressed the limits of perfection; and, in the com¬ 
position of verses, would often have scratched his head, 
and bit his nails to the quick. 


SAT. X. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


131 


You that intend to write what is worthy to be read 
.more than once, blot frequently: and take no pains to 
make the multitude admire you, content with a few 
[judicious] readers. What, would you be such a fool 
as to be ambitious that your verses should be taught in 
petty schools? That is not my case. It is enough for 
me-, that the knight [Maecenas] applauds: as the cour¬ 
ageous actress, Arbuscula, expressed herself, in con¬ 
tempt of the rest of the audience, when she was hissed 
[by the populace]. What, shall that grubworm Pantilius 
have any effect upon me? Or can it vex me, that 
Demetrius carps at me behind my back? or because the 
trifler Fannius, that hanger-on to Hermogenes Tigellius, 
attempts to hurt me? May Plotius and Varius, Maecenas 
and Virgil, Valgius and Octavius approve these Satires, 
and the excellent Fuscus likewise; and I could wish 
that both the Visci would join in their commendations: 
ambition apart, I may mention you, O Pollio: you also, 
Messala, together with your brother; and at the same 
time, you, Bibulus and Servius; and along with these 
you, candid Furnius; many others whom, though men 
of learning and my friends, I purposely omit—to whom 
I could wish these Satires, such as they are, may give 
satisfaction; and I should be chagrined, if they pleased 
in a degree below my expectation. You, Demetrius, and 
you, Tigellius, I bid lament among the forms of your 
female pupils. 

Go, boy, and instantly annex this Satire to the end of 
my book. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 

BOOK TWO 


SATIRE I. 

He supposes himself to consult with Trehati/us, whether 
he should desist from writing satires, or not. 

There are some persons to whom I seem too severe 
in [the writing of] satire, and to carry it beyond 
proper bounds: another set are of opinion, that all I 
have written is nerveless, and that a thousand verses 
like mine may be spun out in a day. Trebatius, give 
me your advice, what I shall do. Be quiet. I should 
not make, you say, verses at all. I do say so. May I 
be hanged, if that would not be best; but I can not 
sleep. Let those, who want sound sleep, anointed swim 
thrice across the Tiber: and have their clay well moist¬ 
ened with wine over-night. Or, if such a great love 
of scribbling hurries you on, venture to celebrate the 
achievements of the invincible Caesar, certain of bearing 
off ample rewards for your pains. 

Desirous I am, my good father, [to do this,] but my 
strength fails me, nor can any one describe the troops 
bristled with spears, nor the Gauls dying on their 
shivered darts, nor the wounded Parthian falling from 
his horse. Nevertheless you may describe him just and 
brave, as the wise Lucilius did Seipio. I will not be 
wanting to myself, when an opportunity presents itself: 
no verses of Horace 7 s, unless well-timed, will gain the 

132 



SAT. I. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


133 


attention of Csesar; whom, [like a generous steed,] if 
you stroke awkwardly, he will kick back upon you, being 
at all quarters on his guard. How much better would 
this be, than to wound with severe satire Pantolabus the 
buffoon, and the rake Nomentanus! when every body is 
afraid for himself, [lest he should be the next,] and 
hates you, though he is not meddled with. What shall 
I do? Milonius falls a dancing the moment he becomes 
light-headed and warm, and the candles appear multi¬ 
plied. Castor delights in horsemanship: and he, who 
sprang from the same egg, in boxing. As many thou¬ 
sands of people [as there are in the world], so many 
different inclinations are there. It delights me to com¬ 
bine words in meter, after the manner of Lucilius, a 
better man than both of us. He long ago communicated 
his secrets to his books, as to faithful friends: never 
having recourse elsewhere, whether things went well or 
ill with him: whence it happens, that the whole life of 
this old [poet] is as open to the view, as if it had been 
painted on a votive tablet. His example I follow, though 
in doubt whether I am a Lucanian or an Apulian; for 
the Yenusinian farmers plow upon the boundaries of 
both countries, who (as the ancient tradition has it) 
were sent, on the expulsion of the Samnites, for this 
purpose, that the enemy might not make incursions on 
the # Romans, through a vacant [unguarded frontier]: or 
lest the Apulian nation, or the fierce Lucanian, should 
make an invasion. But this pen of mine shall not will¬ 
fully attack any man breathing, and shall defend me 
like a sword that is sheathed in the scabbard: which 
why should I attempt to draw, [while I am] safe from 
hostile villains? O Jupiter, father and sovereign, may 
my weapon laid aside wear away with rust, and may 
no one injure me, who am desirious of peace? But that 
man who shall provoke me (I give notice, that it is 
better not to touch me) shall weep [his folly], and as 
a notorious character shall be sung through all the 
streets of Rome. 

Cervius, when he is offended, threatens one with the 
laws and the [judiciary] urn; Canidia, Albutius’ poison 
to those with whom she is at enmity; Turius [threatens] 
great damages, if you contest any thing while he is 


134 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE book h. 


judge. How every animal terrifies those whom he sus¬ 
pects, with that in which he is most powerful, and how 
strong natural instinct commands this, thus infer with 
me.—The wolf attacks with his teeth, the bull with his 
horns. From what principle is this, if not a suggestion 
from within? Intrust that debauchee Scaeva with the 
custody of his ancient mother; his pious hand will 
commit no outrage. A wonder indeed! just as the wolf 
does not attack any one with his hoof, nor the bull with 
his teeth; but the deadly hemlock in the poisoned honey 
will take off the old dame. 

That I may not be tedious, whether a placid old age 
awaits me, or whether death now hovers about me with 
his sable wings; rich or poor, at Rome or (if fortune 
should so order it) an exile abroad; whatever be the 
complexion of my life, I will write. O my child, I fear 
you can not be long-lived; and that some creature of 
the great ones will strike you with the cold of death. 
What? when Lucilius had the courage to be the first 
in composing verses after this manner, and to pull off 
that mask, by means of which each man strutted in 
public view with a fair outside, though foul within; 
was Lselius, and he who derived a well-deserved title 
from the destruction of Carthage, offended at his wit, 
or were they hurt at Metellus being lashed, or Lupus 
covered over with his lampoons? But he took to task 
the heads of the people, and the people themselves, class 
by class; in short, he spared none but virtue and her 
friends. Yet, when the valorous Scipio, and the mild 
philosophical Laelius, had withdrawn themselves from 
the crowd and the public scene, they used to divert 
themselves with him, and joke in a free manner, while 
a few vegetables were boiled [for supper]. Of what¬ 
ever rank I am, though below the estate and wit of 
Lucilius, yet envy must be obliged to own that I have 
lived well with great men; and, wanting to fasten her 
tooth upon some weak part, will strike it against the solid: 
unless you, learned Trebatius, disapprove of any thing 
[I have said]. For my part, I can not make any 
objection to this. But however, that forewarned you 
may be upon your guard, lest an ignorance of our sacred 
laws should bring you into trouble, [be sure of this:] 



SAT. II. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


135 


if any person shall make scandalous verses against a 
particular man, an action lies, and a sentence. Granted, 
if they are scandalous: but if a man composes good 
ones, and is praised by such a judge as Caesar? If a 
man barks only at him who deserves his invectives, 
while he himself is unblamable? The process will be 
canceled with laughter: and you, being dismissed, may 
depart in peace. 


SATIRE II. 

On Frugality. 

What and how great is the virtue to live on a little 
(this is no doctrine of mine, but what Ofellus the 
peasant, a philosopher without rules and of a home-spun 
wit, taught me), learn, my good friends, not among 
dishes and splendid tables; when the eye is dazzled with 
the vain glare, and the mind, intent upon false appear¬ 
ances, refuses [to admit] better things; but here, before 
dinner, discuss this point with me. Why so? I will 
inform you, if I can. Every corrupted judge examines 
badly the truth. After hunting the hare, or being 
wearied by an unruly horse, or (if the Roman ex¬ 
ercise fatigues you, accustomed to act the Greek) 
whether the swift ball, while eagerness softens and pre¬ 
vents your perceiving the severity of the game, or 
quoits (smite the yielding air with the quoit) when 
exercise has worked off squeamishness dry and hungry, 
[then let me see you] despite mean viands and don’t 
drink any thing but Hymettian honey qualified with 
Falernian wine. Your butler is abroad, and the tempestu¬ 
ous sea preserves the fish by its wintery storms: bread 
and salt will sufficiently appease an importunate stomach. 
Whence do you think this happens? and how is it ob¬ 
tained? The consummate pleasure is not in the costly 
flavor, but in yourself. Do you seek for sauce by 
sweating? Neither oysters, nor scar, nor the far-fetched 
lagois, can give any pleasure to one bloated and pale 
through intemperance. Nevertheless, if a peacock were 
served up, I should hardly be able to prevent your 


136 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE book ii. 


gratifying the palate with that, rather than a pullet, 
since you are prejudiced by the vanities of things; be¬ 
cause the scarce bird is bought with gold, and displays 
a fine sight with its painted tail: as if that were any 
thing to the purpose. What, do you eat that plumage, 
which you extol? or has the bird the same beauty when 
dressed? Since however there is no difference in the 
meat, in one preferably to the other; it is manifest that 
you are imposed upon by the disparity of their appear¬ 
ances. Be it so. . . . . , ,, 

By what gift are you able to distinguish, whether this 
lupus, that now opens its jaws before us, was taken m 
the Tiber, or in the sea? whether it was tossed between 
the bridges, or at the mouth of the Tuscan river? Fool, 
you praise a mullet, that weighs three pounds; which 
you are obliged to cut into small pieces. Outward ap¬ 
pearances lead you, I see. To what intent then do you 
contemn large lupuses? Because truly these are by 
nature bulky, and those very light. A hungry stomach 
seldom loathes common victuals. O that I could see a 
swingeing mullet extended on a swingeing dish! cries 
that gullet, which is fit for the voracious harpies them¬ 
selves. But O [say I] ye southern blasts, be present 
to taint the delicacies of the [gluttons]: though the 
boar and turbot newly taken are rank, when surfeiting 
abundance provokes the sick stomach; and when the 
sated guttler prefers turnips and sharp elecampane. 
However, all [appearance of] poverty is not quite ban¬ 
ished from the banquets of our nobles; for there is even 
at this day, a place for paltry eggs and black olives. 
And it was not long ago, since the table of Gallonius, 
the auctioneer, was rendered infamous, by having a 
sturgeon [served up whole upon it]. What? was the 
sea at that time less nutritive of turbots? The turbot 
was secure and the stork unmolested in her nest; till the 
praetorian [Sempronius], the inventor, first taught you 
[to eat them]. Therefore, if any one were to give it out 
that roasted cormorants are delicious, the Roman youth, 
teachable in depravity, would acquiesce in it. 

In the judgment of Ofellus, a sordid way of living 
will differ widely from frugal simplicity. For it is to 
no purpose for you to shun that vice [of luxury]; if 





SAT. II. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


137 


you perversely fly to the contrary extreme. Avidienus, 
to whom the nickname of Dog is applied with propriety, 
eats olives of five years old, and wild cornels, and can 
not bear to rack off his wine unless it be turned sour, 
and the smell of his oil you can not endure: which 
(though clothed in white he celebrates the wedding 
festival, his birth-day, or any other festal days) he 
pours out himself by little and little from a horn cruet, 
that holds two pounds, upon his cabbage, [but at the 
same time] is lavish enough of his old vinegar. 

What manner of living therefore shall the wise man 
put in practice, and which of these examples shall he 
copy? On one side the wolf presses on, and the dog 
on the other, as the saying is. A person will be ac¬ 
counted decent, if he offends not by sordidness, and is 
not despicable through either extreme of conduct. Such 
a man will not, after the example of old Albutius, be 
savage while he assigns to his servants their respective 
offices; nor, like simple Naevius, will he offer greasy 
water to his company: for this too is a great fault. 

Now learn what and how great benefits a temperate 
diet will bring along with it. In the first place, you 
will enjoy good health; for you may believe how detri¬ 
mental a diversity of things is to any man, when you 
recollect that sort of food, which by its simplicity sat 
so well upon your stomach some time ago. But, when 
you have once mixed boiled and roast together, thrushes 
and shell-fish; the sweet juices will turn into bile, and 
the thick phlegm will bring a jarring upon the stomach. 
Do not you see, how pale each guest rises from a per¬ 
plexing variety of dishes at an entertainment? Beside 
this, the body, overloaded with the debauch of yesterday, 
depresses the mind along with it, and dashes to the 
earth that portion of the divine spirit. Another man, 
as soon as he has taken a quick repast, and rendered 
up his limbs to repose, rises vigorous to the duties of his 
calling. However, he may sometimes have recourse to 
better cheer; whether the returning year shall bring on 
a festival, or if he have a mind to refresh his impaired 
body; and when years shall approach, and feeble age 
require to be used more tenderly. But as for you, if a 
troublesome habit of body, or creeping old age, should 


138 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


come upon you, what addition can he made to that soft 
indulgence, which you, now in youth and in health, an¬ 
ticipate? 

Our ancestors praised a boar when it was stale: not 
because they had no noses; but with this view, I sup¬ 
pose, that a visitor coming later than ordinary [might 
partake of it], though a little musty, rather than the 
voracious master should devour it all himself while sweet. 
I wish that the primitive earth had produced me among 
such heroes as these. 

Have you any regard for reputation, which affects the 
human ear more agreeably than music? Great turbots 
and dishes bring great disgrace along with them, to¬ 
gether with expense. Add to this, that your relations 
and neighbors will be exasperated at you, while you 
will be at enmity with yourself and desirous of death 
in vain, since you will not in your poverty have three 
farthings left, to purchase a rope withal. Trausius, you 
say, may with justice be called to account in such lan¬ 
guage as this; but I possess an ample revenue, and 
wealth sufficient for three potentates. Why then have 
you no better method of expending your superfluities? 
Why is any man, undeserving [of distressed circum¬ 
stances], in want, while you abound? How comes it to 
pass, that the ancient temples of the gods are falling 
to ruin? Why do .not you, wretch that you are, bestow 
something on your dear country, out of so vast a hoard? 
What, will matters always go well with you alone? O 
thou, that hereafter shalt be the great derision of thine 
enemies! which of the two shall depend upon himself 
in exigences with most certainty? He who has used 
his mind and high-swollen body to redundancies; or he 
who, contented with a little and provident for the future, 
like a wise man in time of peace, shall make the neces¬ 
sary preparations for war? 

That you may the more readily give credit to these 
things: I myself, when a little boy, took notice that this 
Ofellus did not use his unencumbered estate more pro¬ 
fusely, than he does now it is reduced. You may see the 
sturdy husbandsman laboring for hire in the land [once 
his own, but now] assigned [to others], with his cattle 
and children, talking to this effect; I never ventured 


sat. hi. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 139 


to eat any thing on a work-day except pot-herbs, with 
a hock of smoke-dried bacon. And when a friend came 
to visit me after a long absence, or a neighbor, an 
acceptable guest to me resting from work on account of 
the rain, we lived well; not on fishes fetched from the 
city, but on a pullet and a kid: then a dried grape, 
and a nut, with a large fig, set off our second course. 
After this, it was our diversion to have no other regu¬ 
lation in our cups, save that against drinking to excess: 
then Ceres worshiped [with a libation], that the corn 
might arise in lofty stems, smoothed with wine the 
melancholy of the contracted brow. Let fortune rage, 
and stir up new tumults: what can she do more to im¬ 
pair my estate? How much more savingly have either 
1 lived, or how much less neatly have you gone, my 
children, since this new possessor came? For nature 
has appointed to be lord of this earthly property, neither 
him, nor me, nor any one. He drove us out. Either 
iniquity or ignorance in the quirks of the law shall [do 
the same by] him: certainly in the end his long-lived 
heir shall expel him. Now this field under the de¬ 
nomination of Umbrenus’, lately it was Ofellus’, the 
perpetual property of no man; for it turns to my use 
one while, and by and by to that of another. Wherefore, 
live undaunted; and oppose gallant breasts against the 
strokes of adversity. 


SATIRE III. 

Damasippus, in a conversation with Horace , proves this 
paradox of the Stoic philosophy, that most men are 
actually mad. 

You write so seldom, as not to call for parchment 
four times in the year, busied in reforming your writ¬ 
ings, yet are you angry with yourself, that indulging 
in wine and sleep you produce nothing worthy to be the 
subject of conversation. What will be the consequence? 
But you took refuge here, it seems, at the very celebra¬ 
tion of the Saturnalia, out of sobriety. Dictate there¬ 
fore something worthy of your promises: begin. There 



140 THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


is nothing. The pens are found fault with to no purpose, 
and the harmless wall, which must have been built under 
the displeasure of gods and poets, suffers [to no end]. 
But you had the look of one that threatened many and 
excellent things, when once your villa had received you, 
free from employment, under its warm roof. To what 
purpose was it to stow Plato upon Menander? Eupolis, 
Archilochus? For what end did you bring abroad such 
companions? What are you setting about appeasing envy 
by deserting virtue? Wretch, you will be despised. That 
guilty Siren, Sloth, must be avoided; or whatever ac¬ 
quisitions you have made in the better part of your 
life, must with equanimity be given up. May the gods 
and goddesses, O Damasippus, present you with a barber 
for your sound advice! But by what means did you 
get so well acquainted with me? Since all my fortunes 
were dissipated at the middle of the Exchange, detached 
from all business of my own, I mind that of other 
people. For formerly I used to take a delight in in¬ 
quiring, in what vase the crafty Sisyphus might have 
washed his feet; what was carved in an unworkmanlike 
manner, and what more roughly cast than it ought to 
be; being a connoisseur, I offered a hundred thousand 
sesterces for such a statue; I was the only man who 
knew how to purchase gardens and fine seats to the 
best advantage: whence the crowded ways gave me the 
surname of Mercurial. I know it well; and am amazed 
at your being cured of that disorder. Why a new dis¬ 
order expelled the old one in a marvelous manner; as it 
is accustomed to do, when the pain of the afflicted side, 
or the head, is turned upon the stomach; as it is with 
a man in a lethargy, when he turns boxer, and attacks 
his physician. As long as you do nothing like this, be 
it even as you please. O my good friend, do not de¬ 
ceive yourself; you likewise are mad, and it is almost 
“fools all,” if what Stertinius insists upon has any 
truth in it; from whom, being of a teachable disposi¬ 
tion, I derived these admirable precepts, at the very time 
when, having given me consolation, he ordered me to 
cultivate a philosophical beard, and to return cheerfully 
from the Fabrician bridge. For when, my affairs being 
desperate, I had a mind to throw myself into the river, 


BAT. HI. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


141 


having covered my head [for that purpose], he for¬ 
tunately was at my elbow; and [addressed me to this 
effect]: Take care, how you do any thing unworthy 
of yourself; a false shame, says he, afflicts you, who 
dread to be esteemed a madman among madmen. For 
in the first place I will inquire, what it is to be mad; 
and, if this distemper be in you exclusively, I will not 
add a single word, to prevent you from dying bravely. 

The school and sect of Chrysippus deem every man 
mad, whom vicious folly or the ignorance of truth drives 
blindly forward. This definition takes in whole nations, 
this even great kings, the wise man [alone] excepted. 
Now learn, why all those, who have fixed the name of 
madman upon you, are as senseless as yourself. As in 
the woods, where a mistake makes people wander about 
from the proper path; one goes out of the way to the 
right, another to the left; there is the same blunder 
on both sides, only the illusion is in different directions: 
in this manner imagine yourself mad; so that he, who 
derides you, hangs his tail not one jot wiser than your¬ 
self. There is one species of folly, that dreads things 
not in the least formidable; insomuch that it will com¬ 
plain of fires, and rocks, and rivers opposing it in the 
open plain; there is another different from this, but 
not a whit more approaching to wisdom, that runs head¬ 
long through the midst of flames and floods. Let the 
loving mother, the virtuous sister, the father, the wife, 
together with all the relations [of a man possessed with 
this latter folly], cry out: “Here is a deep ditch; here 
is a prodigious rock; take care of yourself: ’ ’ he would 
give no more attention, than did the drunken Fufius 
some time ago, when he overslept the character of Ilione, 
twelve hundred Caticni at the same time roaring out, 
0 mother, I call you to my aid . I will demonstrate to 
you, that the generality of all mankind are mad in the 
commission of some folly similar to this. 

Damasippus is mad for purchasing antique statues: 
but is Damasippus ’ creditor in his senses? Well, sup¬ 
pose I should say to you: receive this, which you can 
never repay: will you be a madman, if you receive it; 
or would you be more absurd for rejecting a booty, 
which propitious Mercury offers? Take bond, like the 


142 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


banker Nerius, for ten thousand sesterces; it will not 
signify: add the forms of Cicuta, so versed in the 
knotty points of law: add a thousand obligations: yet 
this wicked Proteus will evade all these ties. When 
you shall drag him to justice, laughing as if his cheeks 
were none of his own; he will be transformed into a 
boar, sometimes into a bird, sometimes into a stone, and 
when he pleases into a tree. If to conduct one’s affairs 
badly be the part of the madman; and the reverse, 
that of a man well in his senses; brain of Perillius (be¬ 
lieve me), who orders you [that sum of money], which 
you can never repay, is much more unsound [than yours]. 

Whoever grows pale with evil ambition, or the love 
of money: whoever is heated with luxury, or gloomy 
superstition, or any other disease of the mind, I com¬ 
mand him to adjust his garment and attend: hither, 
all of ye, come near me in order, while I convince you 
that you are mad. 

By far the largest portion of hellebore is to be ad¬ 
ministered to the covetous: I know not, whether reason 
does not consign all Anticyra to their use. The heirs 
of Staberius engraved the sum [which he left them] 
upon his tomb: unless they had acted in this manner, 
they were under an obligation to exhibit a hundred 
pair of gladiators to the people, beside an entertain¬ 
ment according to the direction of Arrius; and as much 
corn as is cut in Africa. Whether I have willed this 
rightly or wrongly, it was my will; be not severe against 
me, [cries the testator]. I imagine the .provident mind 
of Staberius foresaw this. What then did he mean, 
when he appointed by will that his heirs should engrave 
the sum of their patrimony upon his tomb-stone? As 
long as he lived, he deemed poverty a great vice, and 
nothing did he more industriously avoid: insomuch that, 
had he died less rich by one farthing, the more in¬ 
iquitous would he have appeared to himself. For every 
thing, virtue, fame, glory, divine and human affairs, 
are subservient to the attraction of riches; which who¬ 
ever shall have accumulated, shall be illustrious, brave, 
just—what, wise too? Ay, and a king, and whatever 
else he pleases. This he was in hopes would greatly 
redound to his praise, as if it had been an acquisition 


sat. hi. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


143 


of his virtue. In what respect (lid the Grecian Aristip¬ 
pus act like this; who ordered his slaves to throw away 
his gold in the midst of Libya; because, encumbered with 
the burden, they traveled too slowly? Which is the 
greater madman of these two? An example is nothing 
to the purpose, that decides one controversy by creating 
another. If any person were to buy lyres, and [when 
he had bought them] to stow them in one place, though 
neither addicted to the lyre nor to any one muse what¬ 
soever: if a man were [to buy] paring-knives and lasts, 
and were no shoemaker; sails fit for navigation, and 
were averse to merchandising; he would every where 
deservedly be styled delirious, and out of his senses. 
How does he differ from these, who hoards up cash and 
gold [and] knows not how to use them when accumu¬ 
lated, and is afraid to touch them as if they were con¬ 
secrated? If any person before a great heap of corn 
should keep perpetual watch with a long club, and, 
though the owner of it, and hungry, should not dare to 
take a single grain from it; and should rather feed 
upon bitter leaves: if, while a thousand hogsheads of 
Chian, or old Falernian, is stored up within (nay, that 
is nothing—three hundred thousand), he drink nothing, 
but what is mere sharp vinegar: again—if, wanting but 
one year of eighty, he should lie upon straw, who has 
bed-clothes rotting in his chest, the food of worms and 
moths; he would seem mad, belike, but to few persons: 
because the greatest part of mankind labors under the 
same malady. 

Thou dotard, hateful to the gods, dost thou guard 
[these possessions], for fear of wanting thyself: to the 
end that thy son, or even the freedman by heir, should 
guzzle it all up? For how little will each day deduct 
from your capital, if you begin to pour better oil upon 
your greens and your Read, filthy with scurf not combed 
out? If any thing be a sufficiency, wherefore are you 
guilty of perjury [wherefore] do you rob, and plunder 
from all quarters? Are you in your senses? If you were 
to begin to pelt the populace with stones, and the slaves, 
which you purchased with your money; all the very 
boys and girls will cry out that you are a madman. 
When you dispatch your wife with a rope, and your 


144 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


mother with poison, are you right in your head? Why 
not? You neither did this at Argos, nor slew your 
mother with the sword as the mad Orestes did. What, 
do you imagine that he ran mad after he had murdered 
his parent; and that he was not driven mad by the 
wicked Furies, before he warmed his sharp steel in li's 
mother’s throat? Nay, from the time that Orestes is 
deemed to have been of a dangerous disposition, he did 
nothing in fact that you can blame; he did not dare 
to offer violence with his sword to Pylades, nor to his 
sister Electra; he only gave ill language to both of 
them, by calling her a Fury, and him some other [op¬ 
probrious name], which his violent choler suggested. 

Opimius, poor amid silver and gold hoarded up 
within, who used to drink out of Campanian ware 
Veientine wine on holidays, and mere dregs on common 
days, was some time ago taken with a prodigious 
lethargy; insomuch that his heir was already scouring 
about his coffers and keys, in joy and triumph. His 
physician, a man of much dispatch and fidelity, raises 
him in this manner: he orders a table to be brought, 
and the bags of money to be poured out, and several 
persons to approach in order to count it: by this method 
lie sets the man upon his legs again. And at the same 
time he addresses him to this effect. Unless you guard 
your money your ravenous heir will even now carry off 
these [treasures] of yours. What, while I am alive? 
That you may live, therefore, awake; do this. What 
would you have me do? Why your blood will fail you 
that are so much reduced, unless food and some great 
restorative be administered to your decaying stomach. 
Do you hesitate? come on; take this ptisan made of 
rice. How much did it cost? A trifle. How much 
then? Eight asses. Alas! what does it matter, whether 
I die of a disease, or by theft and rapine? 

Who then is sound? He, who is not a fool. What 
is the covetous man? Both a fool and a madman. 
What—if a man be not covetous, is he immediately [to 
be deemed] sound? By no means. Why so, Stoic? I 
will tell you. Such a patient (suppose Craterus [the 
physician] said this) is not sick at the heart. Is he 
therefore well, and shall he get up? No, he will forbid 


sat. hi. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


145 


that; because his side or his reins are harassed with 
an acute disease. [In like manner], such a man is not 
perjured, nor sordid; let him then sacrifice a hog to 
his propitious household gods. But he is ambitious and 
assuming. Let him make a voyage [then] to Anticyra. 
For what is the difference, whether you fling whatever 
you have into a gulf, or make no use of your acquisitions? 

Servius Oppidius, rich in the possession of an ancient 
estate, is reported when dying to have divided two 
farms at Canusium between his two sons, and to have 
addressed the boys, called to his bed-side, [in the fol¬ 
lowing manner]: When I saw you, Aulus, carry your 
playthings and nuts carelessly in your bosom, [and] to . 
give them and game them away; you, Tiberius, count 
them, and anxious hide them in holes; I was afraid 
lest a madness of a different nature should possess you: 
lest you [Aulus], should follow the example of Nomen- 
tanus, you, [Tiberius], that of Cicuta. Wherefore each 
of you, entreated by our household gods, do you (Aulus) 
take care lest you lessen; you (Tiberius) lest you make 
that greater, which your father thinks and the purposes 
of nature determine to be sufficient. Further, lest glory 
should entice you, I will bind each of you by an oath: 
whichever of you shall be an aedile or a praetor, let 
him be excommunicated and accursed. Would you de¬ 
stroy your effects in [largesses of] peas, beans, and 
lupines, that you may stalk in the circus at large, or 
stand in a statue of brass, O madman, stripped of your 
paternal estate, stripped of your money? To the end, 
forsooth, that you may gain those applauses, which 
Agrippa gains, like a cunning fox imitating a generous 
lion? 

O Agamemnon, why do you prohibit any one from 
burying Ajax? I am a king. I, a plebeian, make no 
further inquiry. And I command a just thing: but, if 
I seem unjust to any one, I permit you to speak your 
sentiments with impunity. Greatest of kings, may the 
gods grant, that, after the taking of Troy, you may 
conduct your fleet safe home: may I then have the 
liberty to ask questions, and reply in my turn? Ask. 
Why does Ajax, the second hero after Achilles, rot 
[above ground], so often renowned for having saved the 


146 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


Grecians; that Priam and Priam’s people may exult in 
his being unburied, by whose means so many youth have 
been deprived of their country’s rites of sepulture. In 
his madness he killed a thousand sheep, crying out that 
he was destroying the famous Ulysses and Melenaus, 
together with me. When you at Aulis substituted your 
sweet daughter in the place of a heifer before the altar, 
and, O impious one, sprinkled her head with the salt 
cake; did you preserve soundness of mind? Why do 
you ask? What then did the mad Ajax do, when he 
slew the flock with his sword? He abstained from any 
violence to his wife and child, though he had imprecated 
many curses on the sons of Atreus: he neither hurt 
Teucer, nor even Ulysses himself. But I, out of prudence, 
appeased the gods with blood, that I might loose the 
ships detained on an adverse shore. Yes, madman! with 
your own blood. With my own [indeed], but I was 
not mad. Whoever shall form images foreign from 
reality, and confused in the tumult of impiety, will 
always be reckoned disturbed in mind: and it will 
not matter, whether he go wrong through folly or 
through rage. Is Ajax delirious, while he kills the 
harmless lambs? Are you right in your head, when you 
willfully commit a crime for empty titles? And is your 
heart pure, while it is swollen with the vice? If any 
person should take a delight to carry about with him 
in his sedan a pretty lambkin; and should provide 
clothes, should provide maids and gold for it, as for a 
daughter; should call it Rufa and Rufilla, and should 
destine it a wife for seme stout husband; the praetor 
would take power from him being interdicted, and the 
management of him would devolve to his relations, that 
were in their senses. What, if a man devote his daughter 
instead of a dumb lambkin, is he right of mind? Never 
say it. Therefore, wherever there is a foolish depravity, 
there will be the height of madness. He who is wicked, 
will be frantic too: Bellona, who delights in bloodshed, 
has thundered about him, whom precarious fame has 
captivated. 

Now, come on, arraign with me luxury and Nomen- 
tanus; for reason will evince that foolish spendthrifts 
are mad. This fellow, as soon as he received a thousand 


SAT. III. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


147 


talents of patrimony, issues an order that the fish¬ 
monger, the fruiterer, the poulterer, the perfumer, and 
the impious gang of the Tuscan alley, sausage-maker, 
and buffoons, the whole shambles, together with [all] 
Yelabrum, should come to- his house in the morning. 
What was the consequence? They came in crowds. The 
pander makes a speech: “ Whatever I, or whatever 
each of these has at home, believe it to be yours: and 
give your order for it either directly, or to-morrow. ” 
Hear what reply the considerate youth made: “You 
sleep booted in Lucanian snow, that I may feast on 
a boar: you sweep the wintery seas for fish: I am 
indolent, and unworthy to possess so much. Away with 
it: do you take for your share ten hundred thousand 
sesterces; you as much; you thrice the sum, from whose 
house your spouse runs, when called for, at midnight.’’ 
The son of JEsopus, [the actor] (that he might, for¬ 
sooth, swallow a million of sesterces at a draught), dis¬ 
solved in vinegar a precious pearl, which he had taken 
from the ear of Metella: how much wiser was he [in 
doing this,] than if he had thrown the same into a 
rapid river, or the common sewer? The progeny of 
Quintius Arrius, an illustrious pair of brothers, twins 
in wickedness and trifling and the love of depravity, 
used to dine upon nightingales bought at a vast expense: 
to whom do these belong? Are they in their senses? 
Are they to be marked with chalk, or with charcoal? 

If an [aged person] with a long beard should take 
a delight to build baby-houses, to yoke mice to a go- 
cart, to play at odd and even, to ride upon a long cane, 
madness must be his motive. If reason shall evince, 
that to be in love is a more childish thing than these; 
and that there is no difference whether you play the 
same games in the dust as when three years old, or 
whine in anxiety for the love of a harlot: I beg to 
know, if you will act as the reformed Polemon did 
of old? Will you lay aside those .ensigns of your disease, 
your rollers, your mantle, your mufflers; as he in his 
cups is said to have privately torn the chaplet from 
his neck, after he was corrected by the speech of his 
fasting master? When you offer apples to an angry 
boy, he refuses them: here, take them, you little dog; 


148 THE SATIRES OF HORACE book ii. 

he denies you: if you don’t give them, he wants them. 
In what does an excluded lover differ [from such a 
boy]; when he argues with himself whether he should 
go or not to that very place whither he was returning 
without being sent for, and cleaves to the hated doors? 
“What shall I not go to her now, when she invites 
me of her own accord? or shall I rather think of putting 
an end to my pains? She has excluded me; she recalls 
me: shall I return? No, not if she would implore me.’’ 
Observe the servant, not a little wiser: “O master, 
that which has neither moderation nor conduct, can not 
be guided by reason or method. In love these evils are 
inherent; war [one while], then peace again. If any 
one should endeavor to ascertain these things, that are 
various as the weather, and fluctuating by blind chance; 
he will make no more of it, than if he should set about 
raving by right reason and rule. ’ ’ What—when, pick¬ 
ing the pippins from the Picenian apples, you rejoice 
if haply you have hit the vaulted roof; are you your¬ 
self? What—when you strike out faltering accents from 
your antiquated palate, how much wiser are you than 
[a child] that builds little houses? To the folly [of 
love] add bloodshed, and stir the fire with a sword. I 
ask you, when Marius lately, after he had stabbed 
Hellas, threw himself down a precipice, was he raving 
mad? Or will you absolve the man from the imputa¬ 
tion of a disturbed mind, and condemn him for the 
crime, according to your custom, imposing on things 
names that have an affinity in signification? 

There was a certain freedman, who, an old man, ran 
about the streets in a morning fasting, with his hands 
washed, and prayed thus: “Snatch me alone from 
death’’ (adding some solemn vow), “me alone, for it 
is an easy matter for the gods: ’ ’ this man was sound 
in both his ears and eyes; but his master, when he 
sold him, would except his understanding, unless he 
were fond of law-suits. This crowd too Chrysippus places 
in the fruitful family of Menenius. 

O Jupiter, who givest and takest away great afflic¬ 
tions, (cries the mother of a boy, now lying sick a-bed 
for five months), if this cold quartan ague should leave 
the child, in the morning of that day on which you 


SAT. III. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


149 


enjoin a fast, he shall stand naked in the Tiber. Should 
chance or the physician relieve the patient from his 
imminent danger, the infatuated mother will destroy 
[the boy] placed on the cold bank, and will bring back 
the fever. With what disorder of the mind is she 
stricken? Why, with a superstitious fear of the gods. 

These arms Stertinius, the eighth of the wise men, 
gave to me, as to a friend, that for the future I might 
not be roughly accosted without avenging myself. Who¬ 
soever shall call me madman, shall hear as much from 
me [in return]; and shall learn to look back upon the 
bag that hangs behind him. 

O Stoic, so may you, after your damage, sell all your 
merchandise the better: what folly (for, [it seems,] 
there are more kinds than one) do you think I am in¬ 
fatuated with? For to myself I seem sound. What— 
when mad Agave carries the amputated head of her 
unhappy son, does she then seem mad to herself? I 
allow myself a fool (let me yield to the truth) and a 
madman likewise: only declare this, with w T hat dis¬ 
temper of mind you think me afflicted. Hear, then: in 
the first place you build; that is, though from top to 
bottom you are but of the two-foot size you imitate 
the tall: and you, the same person, laugh at the spirit 
and strut of Turbo in armor, too great for his [little] 
body: how are you less ridiculous than him? What— 
is it fitting that, in every thing Maecenas does, you, 
who are so very much unlike him and so much his in¬ 
ferior, should vie with him? The young ones of a frog 
being in her absence crushed by the foot of a calf, 
when one of them had made his escape, he told his 
mother what a huge beast had dashed his brethren to 
pieces. She began to ask, how big? Whether it were 
so great? puffing herself up. Greater by half. What, 
so big? when she had swelled herself more and more. 
If you should burst yourself, says he, you will not be 
equal to it. This image bears no great dissimilitude to 
you. Now add poems (that is, add oil to the fire), which 
if ever any man in his senses made, why so do you. I 
do not mention your horrid rage. At length, have done— 
your way of living beyond your fortune confine yourself 
to your own affairs, Damasippus—those thousand pas- 


150 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


book n. 


sions for the fair, the young. Thou greater madman, 
at last, spare the inferior. 


SATIRE IV. 

He ridicules the absurdity of one Catius, who placed the 
summit of human felicity in the culinary art. 

Whence, and whither, Catius? I have not time [to 
converse with youj, being desirous of impressing on my 
memory some new precepts; such as excel Pythagoras, 
and him that was accused by Anytus, and the learned 
Plato. I acknowledge my offense, since I have inter¬ 
rupted you at so unlucky a juncture: but grant me 
your pardon, good sir, 1 beseech you. If any thing 
should have slipped you now, you will presently re¬ 
collect it: whether this talent of yours be of nature, or 
of art, you are amazing in both. Nay, but I was 
anxious, how I might retain all [these precepts]; as 
being things of a delicate nature, and in a delicate style. 
Tell me the name of this man; and at the same time 
whether he is a Roman, or a foreigner? As I have 
them by heart, I will recite the precepts: the author shall 
be concealed. 

Remember to serve up those eggs that are of an 
oblong make, as being of sweeter flavor and more 
nutritive than the round ones: for, being tough-shelled, 
they contain a male yelk. Cabbage that grows in dry¬ 
lands, is sweeter than that about town: nothing is more 
insipid than a garden much watered. If a visitor should 
come unexpectedly upon you in the evening, lest the 
tough old hen prove disagreeable to his palate, you 
must learn to drown it in Falernian wine mixed [with 
water]: this will make it tender. The mushrooms that 
grow in meadows, are of the best kind: all others are 
dangerously trusted. That man shall spend his summers 
healthy who shall finish his dinners with mulberries black 
[with ripeness], which he shall have gathered from the 
tree before the sun becomes violent. Aufidius used to 
mix honey with strong Falernian injudiciously; because 
it is right to commit nothing to the empty veins, but 


sat. iv. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


151 


what is emollient: you will, with more propriety, wash 
your stomach with soft mead. If your belly should be 
hard bound, the limpet and coarse cockles will remove 
obstructions, and leaves of the small sorrel; but not 
without Coan white wine. The increasing moons swell 
the lubricating shell-fish. But every sea is not productive 
of the exquisite sorts. The Lucrine mussel is better 
than the Baian murex: [The best] oysters come from 
the Circsean promontory; cray-fish from Misenum: the 
soft Tarentum plumes herself on her broad escalops. 
Let no one presumptuously arrogate to himself the 
science of banqueting, unless the nice doctrine of tastes 
has been previously considered by him with exact sys¬ 
tem. Nor is it enough to sweep away a parcel of fishes 
from the expensive stalls, [while he remains] ignorant 
for what sort stewed sauce is more proper, and what 
being roasted, the sated guest will presently replace 
himself on his elbow. Let the boar from Umbria, and 
that which has been fed with the acorns of the scarlet 
oak, bend the round dishes of him who dislikes all flabby 
meat: for the Laurentian boar, fattened with flags and 
reeds, is bad. The vineyard does not always afford the 
most eatable kids. A man of sense will be fond of 
the shoulders of a pregnant hare. What is the proper 
age and nature of fish and fowl, though inquired after, 
was never discovered before my palate. There are some, 
whose genius invents nothing but new kinds of pastry. 
To waste one’s care upon one thing, is by no means 
sufficient; just as if any person should use all his en¬ 
deavors for this only, that the wine be not bad; quite 
careless what oil he pours upon his fish. If you set out 
Massic wine in fair weather, should there be any thing 
thick in it, it will be attenuated by the nocturnal air, 
and the smell unfriendly to the nerves will go off: but, 
if filtrated through linen, it will lose its entire flavor. 
He, who skillfully mixes the Surrentine wine with 
Falernian lees, collects the sediment with a pigeon’s 
egg: because the yelk sinks to the bottom, rolling down 
with it all the heterogeneous parts. You may rouse the 
jaded toper with roasted shrimps and African cockles; 
for lettuce after wine floats upon the soured stomach; 
by ham preferably, and by sausages, it craves to be 


152 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


restored to its appetite: nay, it will prefer every thing 
which is brought smoking hot from the nasty eatmg- 
houses. It is worth while to be acquainted with the 
two kinds of sauce. The simple consists of sweet oil; 
which it will be proper to mix with rich wine and pickle, 
but with no other pickle than that by which the Byzan¬ 
tine jar has been tainted. When this, mingled with 
shredded herbs, has boiled, and sprinkled with Corycian 
saffron, has stood, you shall over and above add what 
the pressed berry of Venafran olive yields. The Tibur- 
tian yield to the Picenian apples in juice, though they 
excel in look. The Venusian grape is proper for [pre¬ 
serving in] pots. The Albanian you had better harden 
in the smoke. I am found to be the first that served 
up this grape with apples in neat little side-plates, to 
be the first [likewise that served up] wine-lees and 
herring-brine, and white pepper finely mixed with black 
salt. It is an enormous fault to bestow three thousand 
sesterces on the fish-market, and then to cramp the 
roving fishes in a narrow dish. It causes a great nausea 
in the stomach, if even the slave touches the cup with 
greasy hands, while he licks up snacks, or if offensive 
grime has adhered to the ancient goblet. In trays, in 
mats, in sawdust, [that are so] cheap, what great ex¬ 
pense can there be? But, if they are neglected, it is a 
heinous shame. What, should you sweep Mosaic pave¬ 
ments with a dirty broom made' of palm, and throw 
Tyrian carpets over the unwashed furniture of your 
couch! forgetting, that by how much less care and ex¬ 
pense these things are attended, so much the more justly 
may [the want of them] be censured, than of those 
things which can not be obtained but at the tables of 
the rich? 

Learned Catius, entreated by our friendship and the 
gods, remember to introduce r_ie to an audience [with 
this great man], whenever you shall go to him. For, 
though by your memory you relate every thing to me, 
yet as a relater you can not delight me in so high a 
degree. Add to this the countenance and deportment 
of^the man; whom you, happy in having seen, do 
not much regard, because it has been your lot: but I 
have no small solicitude, that I may approach the distant 


SAT. V. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


153 


fountain-heads, and imbibe the precepts of [such] a 
blessed life. 


SATIRE V. 

In a humorous dialogue between Ulysses and Tiresias, he 
exposes those arts which the fortune hunters make 
use of, in order to be appointed the heirs of rich 
old men . 

Beside what you have told me, O Tiresias, answer to 
this petition of mine: by what arts and expedients 
may I be able to repair my ruined fortunes—why do 
you laugh? Does it already seem little to you, who are 
practiced in deceit, to be brought back to Ithaca, and to 
behold [again] your family household gods? O you who 
never speak falsely to any one, you see how naked 
and destitute I return home, according to your prophecy: 
nor is either my cellar, or my cattle there, unembezzled 
by the suitors [of Penelope]. But birth and virtue, 
unless [attended] with substance, is viler than seaweed. 

Since (circumlocutions apart) you are in dread of 
poverty, hear by what means you may grow wealthy. 
If a thrush, or any [nice] thing for your own private 
[eating], shall be given you; it must wing way to that 
place, where shines a great fortune, the possessor being 
an old man-: delicious apples, and whatever dainties your 
well-cultivated ground brings forth for you, let the rich 
man, as more to be reverenced than your household god, 
taste before him: and, though he be perjured, of no 
family, stained with his brother’s blood, a runaway; 
if he desire it, do not refuse to go along with him, his 
companion on the outer side. What, shall I walk cheek 
by jole with a filthy Damas? I did not behave myself 
in that manner at Troy, contending always with the best. 
You must then be poor. I will command my sturdy soul 
to bear this evil; I have formerly endured even greater. 
Do thou, O prophet, tell i le forthwith how I may amass 
riches, and heaps of money. In troth I have told you,, 
and tell you" again. Use your craft to lie at watch for 
the last wills of old men: nor, if one or two cunning 
chaps escape by biting the bait off the hook, either lay 


154 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK n. 


aside hope, or quit the art, though disappointed m your 
aim. If an affair, either of little or great consequence, 
shall be contested at any time at the bar; whichever 
of the parties live wealthy without heirs, should he be a 
rogue, who daringly takes the law of a better man, be 
thou his advocate: despise the citizen, who is superior in 
reputation, and [the justness of] his cause, if at home 
he has a son or a fruitful wife. [Address him thus:] 
“ Quintus, for instance, or Publius (delicate ears delight 
in the prefixed name), your virtue has made me your 
friend. I am acquainted with the precarious quirks of 
the law; I can plead causes. Any one shall sooner 
snatch my eyes from me, than he shall despise or de¬ 
fraud you of an empty nut. This is my care, that you 
lose nothing, that you be not made of jest of. M Bid 
him go home and make much of himself. Be his solicitor 
yourself: persevere, and be steadfast: whether the glar¬ 
ing dog-star shall cleave the infant statues; or Furius, 
destined with his greasy paunch, shall spue white snow 
over the wintery Alps. Do not you see (shall some one 
sav, jogging the person that stands next to him by the 
elbow) how indefatigable he is, how serviceable to his 
friends, how acute? [By this means] more tunnies shall 
swim in, and your fish-ponds will increase. 

Further, if any one in affluent circumstances has reared 
an ailing son, lest a too open complaisance to a single 
man should detect you, creep gradually into the hope 
[of succeeding him], and that you may be set down as 
second heir; and, if any casualty should dispatch the 
boy to Hades, you may come into the vacancy. This die 
seldom fails. Whoever delivers his will to you to read, 
be mindful to decline it, and push the parchment from 
you: [do it] however in such a manner, that you may 
catch with an oblique glance, what the first page in¬ 
timates to be in the second clause: run over with a 
quick eye, whether you are sole heir, or co-heir with 
many. Sometimes a well-seasoned lawyer, risen from a 
Quinquevir, shall delude the gaping raven; and the 
fortune-hunter Nasica shall be laughed at by Coranus. 

What, art thou in a [prophetic] raving; or dost thou 
play upon me designedly, by uttering obscurities? O 
son of Laertes, whatever I shall say will come to pass, 


SAT. V. 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


155 


or it will not: for the great Apollo gives me the power 
to divine. Then, if it is proper, relate what that tale 

means.. . 

At that time when the youth dreaded by the Parthians, 
an offspring derived from the noble Aeneas, shall be 
mighty by land and sea; the tall daughter of Nasica, 
averse to pay the sum total of his debt, shall wed the 
stout Coranus. Then the son-in-law shall proceed thus: 
he shall deliver his will to his father-in-law, and entreat 
him to read it; Nasica will at length receive it, after 
it has been several times refused, and silently peruse it; 
and will find no other legacy left to him and his, except 

leave to lament. . _ _ , . . 

To these [directions I have already given], I subjoin 
the [following]: if haply a cunning woman or a freed- 
man have the management of an old driveler, join with 
them as an associate: praise them, that you may be 
praised in your absence. This too is of service; but to 
storm [the capital] itself excels this method by far. 
Shall he, a dotard, scribble wretched verses? Applaud 
them. Shall he be given to pleasure? Take care [you 
do not suffer him] to ask you: of your own accord 
complaisantly deliver up your Penelope to him, as pre¬ 
ferable [to yourself]. What—do you think so sober 
and so chaste a woman can be brought over, whom [so 
many] wooers could not divert from the right course? 
Because, forsooth, a parcel of young fellows came, who 
were too parsimonious to give a great price, nor so 
much desirous of an amorous intercourse, as of the 
kitchen. So far your Penelope is a good woman: who, 
had she once tasted of one old [doting gallant], and 
shared with you the profit like a hound, will never be 
frighted away from the reeking skin [of the new-killed 

g ame l* . -.IT 

What I am going to tell you happened when 1 was 

an old man. A wicked hag at Thebes was, according 
to her will, carried forth in this manner: her heir bore 
her corpse, anointed with a large quantity of oil, upon 
his naked shoulders; with the intent that, if possible, 
she might escape from him even when dead: because, 
I imagine, he had pressed upon her too much when 
living. Be cautious in your addresses: neither be want- 


156 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


ing in your pains, nor immoderately exuberant. By 
garrulity you will offend the splenetic and morose. You 
must not, however, be too silent. Be Davus in tl\e play; 
and stand with your head on one side, much like one 
who is in great awe. Attack him with complaisance: if 
the air freshens, advise him carefully to cover up his 
precious head: disengage him from the crowd by op¬ 
posing your shoulders to it: closely attach your ear to 
him, if chatty. Is he immoderately fond of being 
praised? Pay him home, till he shall cry out, with his 
hands lifted up to heaven, “Enough:” and puff up 
the swelling bladder with tumid speeches. When he 
shall have [at last] released you from your long servitude 
and anxiety; and being certainly awake, you shall 
hear [this article in his will]? “Let Ulysses be heir 
to one fourth of my estate: ” “is then my companion 
Damas now no more? Where shall I find one so brave 
and so faithful?” Throw out [something of this kind] 
every now and then; and if you can a little, weep for 
him. It is fit to disguise your countenance, which 
[otherwise] would betray your joy. As for the monu¬ 
ment, which is left to your own discretion, erect it 
without meanness. The neighborhood will commend the 
funeral handsomely performed. If haply any of your 
co-heirs, being advanced in years, should have a danger¬ 
ous cough; whether he has a mind to be a purchaser 
of a farm or a house out of your share, tell him, you 
will [come to any terms he shall propose, and] make it 
over to him gladly for a trifling sum. But the im¬ 
perious Prosperpine drags me hence. Live, and prosper. 


SATIRE VI. 

He sets the conveniences of a country retirement m 
opposition to the troubles of a life in town. 

This was [ever] among the number of my wishes: a 
portion of ground not over large, in which was a garden, 
and a fountain with a continual stream close to my 
house, and a little woodland besides. The gods have 
done more abundantly, and better, for me [than this]. 


sat. vi. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


157 


It is well: O son of Maia, I ask nothing more save 
that you would render these donations lasting to me. 
If I have neither made my estate larger by bad means, 
nor am in a way to make it less by vice or misconduct; 
if I do not foolishly make any petition of this sort— 
‘ ‘ Oh that that neighboring angle, which now spoils the 
regularity of my field, could be added! Oh that some 
accident would discover to me an urn [full] of money! 
as it did to him, who having found a treasure, bought 
that very ground he before tilled in the capacity of an 
hired servant, enriched by Hercules ’ being his friend; ’ 7 
if what I have at present satisfies me grateful, I sup¬ 
plicate you with this prayer: make my cattle fat for 
the use of their master, and every thing else except my 
genius: and, as you are wont, be present as my chief 
guardian. Wherefore, when I have removed myself 
from the city to the mountains and my castle, (what 
can I polish, preferably to my satires and prosaic muse?) 
neither evil ambition destroys me, nor the heavy south 
wind, nor the sickly autumn, the gain of baleful Libitina. 

Father of the morning, or Janus, if with more pleasure 
thou hearest thyself [called by that name], from whom 
men commence the toils of business, and of life (such 
is the will of the gods), be thou the beginning of my 
song. At Rome you hurry me away to be bail; ‘ ‘ Away, 
dispatch, [you cry,] lest any one should be beforehand 
w r ith you in doing that friendly office : 7 7 I must go, at 
all events, whether the north wind sweep the earth, or 
winter contracts the snowy day into a narrower circle. 
After this, having uttered in a clear and determinate 
manner [the legal form], which may be a detriment to 
me, I must bustle through the crowd; and must dis¬ 
oblige the tardy. “What is your will, madman, and 
what are you about, impudent fellow V 7 So one accosts 
me w r ith his passionate curses. “You jostle every thing 
that is in your way, if with an appointment full in 
your mind you are posting away to Maecenas.” This 
pleases me, and is like honey: I will not tell a lie. But 
by the time I reach the gloomy Esquiliae, a hundred 
affairs of other people’s encompass me on every side: 
“Roscius begged that you would be with him at the 
court-house to-morrow before the second hour . 77 “ The 





158 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


secretaries requested you would remember, Quintus, to 
return to-day about an affair of public concern, and of 
great consequence. ’ ’ ‘ 1 Get Mgecenas to put his signet to 
these tablets. ’ ’ Should one say, “I will endeavor at 
it:’' “If you will, you can,” adds he; and is more 
earnest. The seventh year approaching to the eighth j 
is now elapsed, from the time that Maecenas began to 
reckon me in the number of his friends; only thus far, 
as one he would like to take along with him in his 
chariot, when he went a journey, and to whom he would i 
trust such kind of trifles as these: “What is the hour?” 1 
“Is Gallina, the Thracian, a match for [the gladiator] 
Syrus?” “The cold morning air begins to pinch those 
that are ill provided against it; ’ ’—and such things as 
are well enough intrusted to a leaky ear. For all this 
time, every day and hour, I have been more subjected 
to envy. Our son of fortune here, says every body, 
witnessed the shows in company with [Maecenas], and 
played with him in the Campus Martius. ” Does any 
disheartening report spread from the rostrum through 
the streets, whoever comes in my way consults me [con¬ 
cerning it]: “Good sir, have you (for you must know, 
since you approach nearer the gods) heard any thing 
relating to the Dacians?” “Nothing at all for my 
part,” [I reply]. “How you ever are a sneerer!” 
“But may all the gods torture me, if I know any thing 
of the matter.” “What? will Caesar give the lands he 
promised the soldiers, in Sicily, or in Italy?” As I am 
swearing I know nothing about it, they wonder at me, 
[thinking] me, to be sure, a creature of profound and 
extraordinary secrecy. 

Among things of this nature the day is wasted by 
me, mortified as I am, not without such wishes as these: 

O rural retirement, when shall I behold thee? and when 
shall it be in my power to pass through the pleasing 
oblivion of a life full of solicitude, one while with the 
books of the ancients, another while in sleep and leisure? 
O when shall the bean related to Pythagoras, and at 
the same time herbs well larded with fat bacon, be set 
before me? O evenings, and suppers fit for gods! with 
which I and my friends regale ourselves in the presence 
of my household gods; and feed my saucy slaves with 


sat. vi. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


159 


viands, of which libations have been made. The guest, 
according to every one’s inebriation, takes off the glasses 
of different sizes, free from mad laws: whether one of 
a strong constitution chooses hearty bumpers; or another 
more joyously gets mellow with modern ones. Then con¬ 
versation arises, not concerning other people’s villas and 
houses, nor whether Lepos dances well or not; but we 
debate on what is more to our purpose, and what it is 
pernicious not to know—whether men are made happier 
by riches or by virtue; or what leads us into intimacies, 
interest or moral rectitude; and what is the nature of 
good, and what its perfection. Meanwhile, my neighbor 
Cervius prates away old stories relative to the subject. 
For, if any one ignorantly commends the troublesome 
riches of Aurelius, he thus begins: “Ona time a coun¬ 
try-mouse is reported to have received a city-mouse into 
his poor cave, an old host, his old acquaintance; a blunt 
fellow and attentive to his acquisitions, yet so as he 
could [on occasion] enlarge his narrow soul in acts of 
hospitality. What need of many words? He neither 
grudged him the hoarded vetches, nor the long oats; and 
bringing in his mouth a dry plum, and nibbled scraps 
of bacon, presented them to him, being desirous by the 
variety of the supper to get the better of the daintiness 
of his guest, who hardly touched with his delicate tooth 
the several things: while the father of the family him¬ 
self, extended on fresh straw, ate a spelt and darnel, 
leaving that which was better [for his guest]. At length 
the citizen addressing him, ‘Friend,’ says he, ‘what de¬ 
light have you to live laboriously on the ridge of a 
rugged thicket? Will you not prefer men and the city 
to the savage woods? Take my advice, and go along 
with me: since mortal lives are allotted to all terrestrial 
animals, nor is there any escape from death, either for 
the great or the small. Wherefore, my good friend, 
while it is in your power, live happy in joyous circum¬ 
stances : live mindful of how brief an existence you are. ’ 
Soon as these speeches had wrought upon the peasant, he 
leaps nimbly from his cave: thence they both pursue 
their intended journey, being desirous to steal under the 
city walls by night. And now the night possessed the 
middle region of the heavens, when each of them set 


160 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


foot in a gorgeous palace, where carpets dyed with 
crimson grain glittered upon ivory couches, and many 
baskets of a magnificent entertainment remained, which 
had yesterday been set by in baskets piled upon one 
another. After he had placed the peasant then, stretched 
at ease, upon a splendid carpet; he bustles about like 
an adroit host, and keeps bringing up one dish close 
upon another, and with an affected civility performs all 
the ceremonies, first tasting of every thing he serves up. 
He, reclined, rejoices in the change of his situation, and 
acts the part of a boon companion in the good cheer: 
when on a sudden a prodigious rattling of the folding 
doors shook them both from their couches. Terrified 
they began to scamper all about the room, and njore 
and more heartless to be in confusion, while the lofty 
house resounded with [the barking of] mastiff dogs; 
upon which, says the country-mouse, ‘I have no desire 
for a life like this; and so farewell: my wood and cave, 
secure from surprises, shall with homely tares com¬ 
fort me.’ ” 


SATIRE VII. 

One of Horace’s slaves , making use of that freedom 
which was allowed them at the Saturnalia, rates 
his master in a droll and severe manner. 

I have a long while been attending [to you], and 
would fain speak a few words [in return; but, being] 
a slave, I am afraid. What, Davus? Yes, Davus, a 
faithful servant to his master and an honest one, at least 
sufficiently so: that is, for you to think his life in no 
danger. Well (since our ancestors would have it so), 
use the freedom of December: speak on. 

One part of mankind are fond of their vices with 
some constancy and adhere to their purpose: a con¬ 
siderable part fluctuates; one while embracing the right, 
another while liable to depravity. Priscus, frequently 
observed with three rings, sometimes with his left hand 
bare, lived so irregularly that he would change his robe 
every hour; from a magnificent edifice, he would on a 


sat. vii. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


161 


sudden hide himself in a place, whence a decent freed- 
uian could scarcely come out in a decent manner; one 
while he would choose to lead the life of a rake at 
Rome, another while that of a teacher at Athens; born 
under the evil influence of every Vertumnus. That 
buffoon, Volanerius, when the deserved gout had crippled 
his fingers, maintained [a fellow] that he had hired at 
a daily price, who took up the dice and put them into 
a box for him: yet by how much more constant was he 
in his vice, by so much less wretched was he than the 
former person, who is now in difficulties by too loose, 
now by too tight a rein. 

“Will you not tell to-day, you varlet, whither such 
wretched stuff as this tends ?’’ “Why, to you, I say.” 
“In what respect to me, scoundrel?” “You praise 
the happiness and manners of the ancient [Roman] 
people; and yet, if any god were on a sudden to reduce 
you to them, you, the same man, would earnestly beg 
to be excused; either because you are not really of 
opinion that what you bawl about is right; or because 
you are irresolute in defending the right, and hesitate, 
in vain desirous to extract your foot from the mire. At 
Rome, you long for the country; when you are in the 
country, fickle, you extol the absent city to the skies. 
If haply you are invited out nowhere to supper, you 
praise your quiet dish of vegetables; and as if you ever 
go abroad upon compulsion, you think yourself so happy, 
and do so hug yourself, that you are obliged to drink 
out nowhere. Should Maecenas lay his commands on you 
to come late, at the first lighting up of the lamps, as 
his guest; ‘Will nobody bring the oil with more expedi¬ 
tion? Does any body hear?’ You stutter with a mighty 
bellowing, and storm with rage. Milvius, and the buf¬ 
foons [who expected to sup with you], depart after 
having uttered curses not proper to be repeated. Any 
one may say, for I own [the truth], that I am easy 
to be seduced by my appetite; I snuff up my nose at 
a savory smell: I am weak, lazy; and, if you have a 
mind to add any thing else, I am a sot. But seeing you 
are as I am, and perhaps something worse, why do 
you willfully call me to an account, as if you were the 
better man; and, with specious phrases, disguise your 



162 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


own vice? What, if you are found out to be a greater 
fool than I, who was purchased for five hundred drach¬ 
mas? Forbear to terrify me with your looks; restrain 
your hand and your anger, while I relate to you what 
Crispinus’ porter taught me. 

‘ ‘ Another man’s wife captivates you; a harlot, Davus: 
which of us sins more deservingly of the cross? When 
keen nature inflames me, any common wench that picks 
me up, dismisses me neither dishonored, nor caring 
whether a richer or a handsomer man enjoys her next. 
You, when you have cast off your ensigns of dignity, 
your equestrian ring and your Roman habit, turn out 
from a magistrate a wretched Dama, hiding with a cape 
your perfumed head: are you not really what you 
personate? You are introduced, apprehensive [of con¬ 
sequences]; and, as you are altercating with your pas¬ 
sions, your bones shake with fear. What is the differ¬ 
ence whether you go condemned [like a gladiator], to 
be galled with scourges, or slain with the sword; or be 
closed up in a filthy chest, where [the maid], conscious 
of her mistress , crime, has stowed you? Has not the 
husband of the offending dame a just power over both; 
against the seducer even a juster? But she neither 
changes her dress, nor place, nor sins to that excess 
[which you do]; sinee the woman is in dread of you, 
nor gives any credit to you, though you profess to love 
her. You must go under the yoke knowingly, and put 
all your fortune, your life, and reputation, together with 
your limbs, into the power of an enraged husband. 
Have you escaped? I suppose, then, you will be afraid 
[for the future] ; and, being warned, will be cautious. 
No, you will seek occasion when you may be again in 
terror, and again may be likely to perish. O so often 
a slave! What beast, when it has once escaped by 
breaking its toils, absurdly trusts itself to them again? 
You say, “I am no adulterer .’’ Nor, by Hercules, am 
I a thief, when I wisely pass by the silver vases. Take 
away the danger, and vagrant nature will spring forth, 
when restraints are removed. Are you my superior, 
subjected as you are, to the dominion of so many things 
and persons, whom the praetor’s rod, though placed on 
your head three or four times over, can never free from 


sat. vii. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


163 


this wretched solicitude? Add, to what has been said 
above, a thing of no less weight; whether he be an 
underling, who obeys the master-slave (as it is your 
custom to affirm), or only a fellow-slave, what am I 
in respect of you? You, for example, who have the 
command of me, are in subjection to other things, and 
are led about, like a puppet movable by means of wires 
not its own. 

“Who then is free? The wise man, who has dominion 
over himself; whom neither poverty, nor death, nor 
chains affright; brave in the checking of his appetites, 
and in contemning honors; and, perfect in himself, 
polished and round as a globe, so that nothing from 
without can retard, in consequence of its smoothness; 
against whom misfortune ever advances ineffectually. 
Can you, out of these, recognize any thing applicable 
to yourself? A woman demands five talents of you, 
plagues you, and after you are turned out of doors, be¬ 
dews you with cold water: she calls you again. Rescue 
your neck from this vile yoke; come, say, I am free, I 
am free. You are not able: for an implacable master 
oppresses your mind, and claps the sharp spurs to your 
jaded appetite, and forces you on though reluctant. 
When you, mad one, quite languish at a picture by 
Pausias; how are you less to blame than I, when I ad¬ 
mire the combats of Fulvius and Rutuba and Placideia- 
nus, with their bended knees, painted in crayons or 
charcoal, as if the men were actually engaged, and push 
and parry, moving their weapons? Davus is a scoundrel 
and a loiterer; but you have the character of an ex¬ 
quisite and expert connoisseur in antiquities. If I am 
allured by a smoking pasty, I am a good-for-nothing 
fellow: does your great virtue and soul resist delicate 
entertainments? Why is a tenderness for my belly too 
destructive for me? For my back pays for it. How 
do you come off with more impunity, since you hanker 
after such dainties as can not be had for a little expense? 
Then those delicacies, perpetually taken, pall upon the 
stomach; and your mistaken feet refuse to support your 
sickly body. Is that boy guilty, who by night pawns 
a stolen scraper for some grapes? Has he nothing ser¬ 
vile about him, who in indulgence to his guts sells his 


164 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


book ir. 


estates? Add to this, that you yourself canuot be an 
hour by yourself, nor dispose of your leisure in a right 
manner; and shun yourself as a fugitive and vagabond, 
one while endeavoring with wine, another while with 
sleep, to cheat care—in vain: for the gloomy companion 
presses upon you, and pursues you in your flight. 

“Where can I get a stone?” ‘‘What occasion is 
there for it?” “Where some darts?” “The man is 
either mad, or making verses.” “If you do not take 
yourself away in an instant, you shall go [and make] 
a ninth laborer at my Sabine estate.” 


SATIRE VIII. 

A smart description of a miser ridiculously acting the 
extravagant. 

How did the entertainment of that happy fellow 
Nasidienus please you? for yesterday, as I was seeking 
to make you my guest, you were said to be drinking 
there from mid-day. [It pleased me so], that I never 
was happier in my life. Say (if it be not troublesome) 
what food first calmed your raging appetite. 

In the first place, there was a Lucanian boar, taken 
when the gentle south wind blew, as the father of the 
entertainment affirmed; around it sharp rapes, lettuces, 
radishes; such things as provoke a languid appetite; 
skirrets, anchovies, dregs of Coan wine. These once 
removed, one slave, tucked high with a purple cloth, 
wiped the maple table, and a second gathered up what¬ 
ever lay useless, and whatever could offend the guests; 
swarthy Hvdaspes advances like an Attic maid with 
Ceres’ sacred rites, bearing wines of Csecubum; Alcon 
brings those of Chios, undamaged by the sea. Here the 
master [cries], “Mmcenas if Alban or Falernian wine 
delight you more than' those already brought, we have 
both.” ' 

Ill-fated riches! But, Fundanius, I am impatient to 
know, who were sharers in this feast where you fared 
so well. 

I was highest, and next me was Viscus Thurinus, and 


sat. viii. THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


165 


below, if I remember, was Varius; with Servilius 
Balatro, Vibidius, whom Mmcenas had brought along 
with him, unbidden guests. Above [Nasidienus] himself 
was Nomentanus, below him Porcius, ridiculous for 
swallowing whole cakes at once. Nomentanus [was 
present] for this purpose, that if any thing should 
chance to be unobserved, he might show it with his point¬ 
ing finger. For the other company, we, I mean, eat 
[promiscuously] of fowls, oysters, fish, which had con¬ 
cealed in them a juice far different from the known; 
as presently appeared, when he reached to me the en¬ 
trails of a plaice and of a turbot, such as had never been 
tasted before. After this he informed me that honey- 
apples were most ruddy when gathered under the waning 
moon. What difference this makes you will hear best 
from himself. Then [says] Yibidius to Balatro; “If 
we do not drink to his cost, we shall die in his debt; ’ ’■ 
and he calls for larger tumblers. A paleness changed 
the countenance of our host, who fears nothing so much 
as hard drinkers: either because they are more freely 
censorious; or because heating wines deafen the subtle 
[judgment of the] palate. Vibidius and Balatro, all 
following their example, pour whole casks into Alli- 
phanians; the guests of the lowest couch did no hurt 
to the flagons. A lamprey is brought in, extended in a 
dish, in the midst of floating shrimps. Whereupon, 
“This ,” says the master, “was caught when pregnant; 
which, after having young, would have been less delicate 
in its flesh .” For these a sauce is mixed up; with oil 
which- the best cellar of Vena/rum pressed, with pickle 
from the juices of the Iberian fish, with wine of five 
years old, but produced on this side of the sea, while 
it is boiling (after it is boiled, the Chian wine suits it 
so well, that no other dies better than it) with white 
pepper, and vinegar which, by being vitiated, turned 
sour the Methymnean grape. I first showed the way to 
stew in it the green rockets and bitter elecampane: 
Curtillus, [to stew in it] the sea-urchins unwashed, as 
being better than the pickle which the sea shell-fish 
yields. 

In the mean time the suspended tapestry made a 
heavy downfall upon the dish, bringing along with it 


166 


THE SATIRES OF HORACE book ii. 


more black dust than the north wind ever raises on the 
plains of Campania. Having been fearful of something 
worse, as soon as we perceive there was no danger, we 
rise up. Rufus, hanging his head, began to. weep, as 
if his son had come to an untimely death: what would 
have been the end, had not the discreet Nomentanus 
thus raised his friend! “Alas! O fortune, what god is 
more cruel to us than thou? How dost thou always take 
pleasure in sporting with human affairs! ’ ’ Varius could 
scarcely smother a laugh with his napkin. Balatro, 
sneering at every thing, observed: “This is the condi¬ 
tion of human life, and therefore a suitable glory will 
never answer your labor. Must you be rent and tor¬ 
tured with all manner of anxiety, that I may be enter¬ 
tained sumptuously; lest burned bread, lest ill-seasoned 
soup should be set before us; that all your slaves should 
wait, properly attired and neat? Add, besides, these 
accidents; if the hangings should tumble down, as just 
now, if the groom slipping with his foot should break a 
dish. But adversity is wont to disclose, prosperity to 
conceal, the abilities of a host as well as of a general. ” 
To this Nasidienus: “May the gods give you all the 
blessings, whatever you can pray for, you are so good 
a man and so civil a guest; ’ ’ and calls for his sandals. 
Then on every couch you might see divided whispers 
buzzing in each secret ear. 

I would not choose to have seen any theatrical en¬ 
tertainments sooner than these things. But come, re¬ 
count what you laughed at next. While Vibidius is in¬ 
quiring of the slaves, whether the flagon was also broken, 
because cups were not brought when he called for them; 
and while a laugh is continued on feigned pretences, 
Balatro seconding it; you, Nasidienus, return with an 
altered countenance, as if to repair your ill-fortune by 
art. Then followed the slaves, bearing on a large 
charger the several limbs of a crane besprinkled with 
much salt, not without flour, and the liver of a white 
goose fed with fattening tigs, and the wings of hares 
torn off, as a much daintier dish than if one eats them 
with the loins. Then we saw blackbirds also set before 
us with scorched breasts, and ring-doves without thq 


SAT. vim THE SATIRES OF HORACE 


167 


rumps: delicious morsels! did not the master give us the 
history of their causes and natures: whom we in revenge 
fled from, so as to taste nothing at all; as if Canidia, 
more venomous than African serpents, had poisoned them 
with her breath. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK ONE 


EPISTLE I. 

To Maecenas. 

The poet renounces all verses of a ludicrous turn , and 
resolves to apply himself wholly to the study of 
philosophy, which teaches to bridle the desires and 
to postpone every thing to virtue. 

Maecenas, the subject of my earliest song, justly en¬ 
titled to my latest, dost thou seek to engage me again 
in the old lists, having been tried sufficiently, and now 
presented with the foils? My age is not the same, nor 
is my genius. Veianius, his arms consecrated on a pillar 
of Hercules’ temple, lives snugly retired in the country, 
that he may not form the extremity of the sandy amphi¬ 
theater so often supplicate the people’s favor. Some 
one seems frequently to ring in my purified ear: 
1 ‘ Wisely in time dismiss the aged courser, lest, an ob¬ 
ject of derision, he miscarry at last, and break his 
wind.” Now therefore I lay aside both verses, and all 
other sportive matters; my study and inquiry is after 
what is true and fitting, and I am wholly engaged in 
this: I lay up, and collect rules which I m^iy be able 
hereafter to bring into use. And lest you should per¬ 
chance ask under what leader, in what house [of 
philosophy], I enter myself a pupil: addicted to swear 

168 





EP. I. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


169 


implicitly to the ipse-dixits of no particular master, 
wherever the weather drives me, I am carried a guest. 
One while I become active, and am plunged in the waves 
of state affairs, a maintainer and a rigid partisan of 
strict virtue; then again I relapse insensibly into Aris¬ 
tippus’ maxims, and endeavor to adapt circumstances 
to myself, not myself to circumstances. As the night 
seems long to those with whom a mistress has broken 
her appointment, and the day slow to those who owe 
their labor; as the. year moves lazy with minors, whom 
the harsh guardianship of their mothers confines; so 
all that time to me flows tedious and distasteful, which 
delays my hope and design of strenuously executing that 
which is of equal benefit to the poor and to the rich, 
which neglected will be of equal detriment to young 
and to old. It remains, that I conduct and comfort 
myself by these principles: your sight is not so piercing 
as that of Lyneeus; you will not however therefore 
despise being anointed, if you are sore-eyed: nor because 
you despair of the muscles of the invincible Glycon, 
will you be careless of preserving your body from the 
knotty gout. There is some point to which we may reach, 
if we can go no further. Does your heart burn with 
avarice, and a wretched desire of more 1 ? Spells there 
are, and incantations, with which you may mitigate 
this pain, and rid yourself of a great part of the dis¬ 
temper. Do you swell with the love of praise? There 
are certain purgations which can restore you, a certain 
treatise being perused thrice with purity of mind. .-The 
envious, the choleric, the indolent, the slave to wine, 
to women—none is so savage that he can not be tamed, 
if he will only lend a patient ear to discipline. 

It is virtue, to fly vice; and the highest wisdom, to 
have lived free from folly. You see with what toil of 
mind and body you avoid those things which you be¬ 
lieve to be the greatest evils, a small fortune and a 
shameful repulse. An active merchant, you run to the 
remotest Indies, fleeing poverty through sea, through 
rocks, through flames. And will you not learn, and 
hear, and be advised by one who is wiser, that you 
may no longer regard those things which you foolishly 
admire and wish for? What little champion of the 


170 


THE EPISTLE OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


villages and of the streets would scorn being crowned 
at the great Olympic games, who had the hopes and 
happy opportunity of victory without toil? Silver is less 
valuable than gold, gold than virtue. 11 0 citizens, 
citizens, money is to be sought first; virtue after riches: ’ * 
this is the highest Janus from the lowest inculcates; 
young men and old repeat these maxims, having their 
bags and account-books hung on the left arm. You 
have soul, have breeding, have eloquence and honor: yet 
if six or seven thousand sesterces be wanting to com¬ 
plete your four hundred thousand, you shall be a ple¬ 
beian. But boys at play cry, ‘ ‘ You shall be king, if 
you will do right.” Let this be a [man’s] brazen 
wall, to be conscious of no ill, to turn pale with no 
guilt. Tell me, pray, is the Roscian law best, or the 
boy’s song which offers the kingdom to them that do 
right, sung by the manly Curii and Camilli? Does he 
advise you best, who says, “Make a fortune; a fortune, 
if you can, honestly; if not, a fortune by any means’' 
—that you may view from a nearer bench the tear- 
moving poems of Puppius: or he, who still animates and 
enables you to stand free and upright, a match for 
haughty fortune? 

If now perchance? the Roman people should ask me, 
why I do not enjoy the same sentiments with them, as 
[I do the same] porticoes, nor pursue or fly from what¬ 
ever they admire or dislike; I will reply, as the cautious 
fox once answered the sick lion: “Because the foot¬ 
marks all looking toward you, and none from you, af¬ 
fright me. ’ ’ Thou art a monster with many heads. 
For what shall I follow, or whom? One set of men 
delight to farm the public revenues: there are some, 
who would inveigle covetous widows with sweet-meats 
and fruits, and insnare old men, whom they would send 
[like fish]into their ponds: the fortunes of many grow 
by concealed usury. But be it, that different men are 
engaged in different employments and pursuits: can the 
same persons continue an hour together approving the 
same things? If the man of wealth has said, “No bay 
in the world outshines delightful Baia 3 ,” the lake and 
the sea presently feel the eagerness of their impetuous 
master: to whom, if a vicious humor gives the omen, 


EP. I. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


171 


[he will cry,]— “ to-morrow, workmen, ye shall convey 
hence your tools to Teanum.*’ Has he in his hall the 
genial bed? He says nothing is preferable to, nothing 
better than a single life. If he has not, he swears the 
married only are happy. With what noose can I hold 
this Proteus, varying thus his forms? What does the 
poor man? Laugh [at him too]: is he not forever 
changing his garrets, beds, baths, barbers? He is as 
much surfeited in a hired boat, as the rich man is, whom 
his own galley conveys. 

If I meet you with my hair cut by an uneven barber, 
you laugh [at me]: if I chance to have a ragged shirt 
under a handsome coat, or if my disproportioned gown 
fits me ill, you laugh. What [do you do], when my 
judgment contradicts itself? it despises what it before 
desired; seeks for that which lately it neglected; is all 
in a ferment, and is inconsistent in the whole tenor of 
life; pulls down, builds up, changes square to round. 
In this case, you think I am mad in the common way, 
and you do not laugh, nor believe that I stand in need 
of a physician, or of a guardian assigned by the praetor; 
though you are the patron of my affairs, and are dis¬ 
gusted at the ill-paired nail of a friend that depends 
upon you, that reveres you. 

In a word, the wise man is inferior to Jupiter alone, 
is rich, free, honorable, handsome, lastly, king of kings; 
above all, he is sound, unless when phlegm is trouble¬ 
some. 


EPISTLE II. 

To Lollius. 

He prefers Homer to all the philosophers , as a moral 
writer, and advises an early cultivation of virtue. 

While you, great Lollius, declaim at Rome, I at Praes- 
neste have perused over again the writer of the Trojan 
war; who teaches more clearly, and better than Chrysip- 
pus and Crantor, what is honorable., what shameful, what 
profitable, what not so. If nothing hinders you, hear 


172 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


why I have thus concluded. The story is which, on 
account of Paris’s intrigue, Greece is stated to be 
wasted, in a tedious war, with the barbarians, contains 
the tumults of foolish princes and people. Antenor 
gives his opinion for cutting off the cause of the war. 
What does Paris? He can not be brought to comply, 
[though it be in order] that he may reign safe, and 
live happy. Nestor labors to compose the differences 
between Achilles and Agamemnon: love inflames one; 
rage both in common. The Greeks suffer for what their 
princes act foolishly. Within the walls of Ilium, and 
without, enormities are committed by sedition, treachery, 
injustice, and lust, and rage^ 

Again, to show what virtue and what wisdom can do, 
he has propounded Ulysses an instructive pattern: who, 
having subdued Troy, wisely got an insight into the 
constitutions and customs of many nations; and, while 
for himself and his associates he is contriving a return, 
endured many hardships on the spacious sea, not to be 
sunk by all the waves of adversity. You are well ac¬ 
quainted with the songs of the Sirens, and Circe’s cups: 
of which, if he had foolishly and greedily drunk along 
with his attendants, he had been an ignominious and 
senseless slave under the command of a prostitute: he 
had lived a filthy dog, or a hog delighting in mire. 

We are a mere number and born to consume the 
fruits of the earth; like Penelope’s suitors, useless 
drones; like Alcinous’ youth, employed above measure 
in pampering their bodies; whose glory was to sleep 
till mid-day, and to lull their cares to rest by the sound 
of the harp. Robbers rise by night, that they may cut 
men’s throats; and will not you awake to save yourself? 
But, if you will not when you are in health, you will 
be forced to take exercise when you are in a dropsy; 
and unless before day you call for a book with a light, 
unless you brace your mind with study and honest em¬ 
ployments, you will be kept awake and tormented with 
envy or with love. For why do you hasten to remove 
things that hurt your eyes, but if any thing gnaws 
your mind, defer the time of curing it from year to 
year? He has half the deed done, who has made a 
beginning. Boldly undertake the study of true wisdom: 


EP. II. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


173 


begin it forthwith. He who postpones the hour of 
living well, like the hind [in the fable], waits till [all 
the water in] the river be run off: whereas it flows, and 
will flow, ever rolling on. 

Money is sought, and a wife fruitful in bearing chil¬ 
dren, and wild woodlands are reclaimed by the plow. 
[To what end all this?] He, that has got a com¬ 
petency, let him wish for no more. Not a house and 
farm, nor a heap of brass and gold, can remove fevers 
from the body of their sick master, or cares from his 
mind. The possessor must be well, if he thinks of en¬ 
joying the things which he has accumulated. To him 
that is a slave to desire or to fear, house and estate 
do just as much good as paintings to a sore-eyed person, 
fomentations to the gout, music to ears afflicted with 
collected matter. Unless the vessel be sweet, whatever 
you pour into it turns sour. Despise pleasures: pleasure 
bought with pain is hurtful. The covetous man is ever 
in want: set a certain limit to your wishes. The envious 
person wastes at the thriving condition of another: 
Sicilian tyrants never invented a greater torment than 
envy. He who will not curb his passion, will wish that 
undone which his grief and resentment suggested, while 
he violently plies his revenge with unsated rancor. Rage 
is a short madness. Rule your passion, which commands, 
if it do not obey; do you restrain it with a bridle, and 
with fetters. The groom forms the docile horse, while 
his neck is yet tender, to go the way which his rider 
directs him: the young hound, from the time that he 
barked at the deer’s skin in the hall, campaigns it in 
the woods. Now, while you are young, with an untainted 
mind imbibe instruction: now apply yourself to the best 
[masters of morality]. A cast will long preserve the 
flavor, with which when new it was once impregnated. 
But if you lag behind, or vigorously push on before, I 
neither wait for the loiterer, nor strive to overtake those 
that precede me. 


174 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


EPISTLE III. 

To Julius F lor us. 

After inquiring about Claudius Tiberius Nero, and some 
of Ms friends, he exhorts Florus to the study of 
philosophy. 

I long to know, Julius Florus, in what regions of the 
earth Claudius, the step-son of Augustus, is waging 
war. Do Thrace and Hebrus, bound with icy chains, 
or the narrow sea running between the neighboring 
towers, or Asia’s fertile plains and hills detain you? 
What works is the studious train planning? In this too 
I am anxious—who takes upon himself to write the 
military achievements of Augustus? Who diffuses into 
distant ages his deeds in war and peace? What is 
Titius about, who shortly will be celebrated by every 
Roman tongue; who dreaded not to drink of the Pindaric 
spring, daring to disdain common waters and open 
streams: how does he do? How mindful is he of me? 
Does he employ himself to adapt Theban measures to 
the Latin lyre, under the direction of his muse? Or 
does he storm and swell in the pompous style of tragic 
art? What is my Celsus doing? He has been advised, 
and the advice is still often to be repeated, to acquire 
stock of his own, and forbear to touch whatever writings 
the Palatine Apollo has received: lest, if it chance that 
the flock of birds should some time or other come to 
demand their feathers, he, like the daw stripped of 
his stolen colors, be exposed to ridicule. What do you 
yourself undertake? What thyme are you busy hovering 
about? Your genius is not small, is not uncultivated 
nor inelegantly rough. Whether you edge your tongue 
for [pleading] causes, or whether you prepare to give 
counsel in the civil law, or whether you compose some 
lovely poem; you will bear off the first prize of the 
victorious ivy. If now you could quit the cold fomenta¬ 
tions of care; whithersoever heavenly wisdom would lead 
you, you would go. Let us, both small and great, push 


EP. IV. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


175 


forward in this work, in this pursuit: if to our country, 
if to ourselves we would live dear. 

You must also write me word of this, whether Munatius 
is of as much concern to you as he ought to be? Or 
whether the ill-patched reconciliation in vain closes, and 
is rent asunder again? But, whether hot blood, or in¬ 
experience in things, exasperates you, wild as coursers 
with unsubdued neck, in whatever place you live, too 
worthy to break the fraternal bond, a devoted heifer 
is feeding against your return. 


EPISTLE IY. 

To Albius Tibullus. 

Ee declares his accomplishments; and, after proposing 
the thought of death, converts it into an occasion 
of pleasantry. 

Albius, thou candid critic of my discourses, what shall 
I say you are now doing in the country about Pedum? 
Writing what may excel the works of Cassius Parmensis; 
or sauntering silently among the healthful groves, con¬ 
cerning yourself about every thing worthy a wise and 
good man? You were not a body without a mind. The 
gods have given you a beautiful form, the gods [have 
given] you wealth, and the faculty of enjoying it. 

What greater blessing could a nurse solicit for her 
beloved child, than that he might be wise, and able to 
express his sentiments; and that respect, reputation, 
health might happen to him in abundance, and decent 
living, with a never-failing purse? 

In the midst of hope and care in the midst of fears 
and disquietudes, think every day that shines upon you 
is the last. [Thus] the hour, which shall not be ex¬ 
pected, will come upon you an agreeable addition. 

When you have a mind to laugh, you shall see me, 
fat and sleek with good keeping, a hog of Epicurus’ 
herd. 


176 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


EPISTLE V. 

To Torquatus. 

Ee invites him to a frugal entertainment, "but a cleanly 
and cheerful one. 

If you can repose yourself as my guest upon Arenas' 
couches, and are not afraid to make a -whole meal on 
all sorts of herbs from a moderate dish; I will expect 
you, Torquatus, at my house about sun set. You shall 
drink wine poured into the vessel in the second consul¬ 
ship of Taurus, produced between the fenny Minturn® 
and Petrinum of Sinuessa. If you have any thing better, 
send for it; or bring your commands. Bright shines 
my hearth, and my furniture is clean for you already. 
Dismiss airy hopes, and contests about riches, and 
Moschus* cause. To-morrow, a festal day on account of 
Caesar’s birth, admits of indulgence and repose. We 
shall have free liberty to prolong the summer evening 
with friendly conversation. To what purpose have I 
fortune, if I may not use it? He that is sparing out of 
regard to his heir, and too niggardly, is next neighbor 
to a madman. I will begin to drink and scatter flowers, 
and I will endure even to be accounted foolish. What 
does not wine freely drunken enterprise? It discloses 
secrets; commands our hopes to be ratified; pushes the 
dastard on to the fight; removes the pressure from 
troubled minds; teaches the arts. Whom have not 
plentiful »cups made eloquent? Whom have they not 
[made] free and easy under pinching poverty? 

I, who am both the proper person and not unwilling, 
am charged to take care of these matters; that no 
dirty covering on the couch, no foul napkin contract 
your nose into wrinkles; and that the cup and the dish 
may show you to yourself; that there be no one to 
carry abroad what is said among faithful friends; that 
equals may meet and be joined with equals. I will 
add to you Butra, and Septicius, and Sabinus, unless 
a better entertainment and a mistress more agreeable 
detain him. There is room also for many introductions: 


EP. VI. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 177 


but goaty ramminess is offensive in over-crowded com¬ 
panies. 

Ho you write word, what number you would be;, and 
setting aside business, through the back-door give the 
slip to your client who keeps guard in your court. 


EPISTLE VI. 

To Numicius. 

That a wise man is in love with nothing hut virtue. 

To admire nothing is almost the one and only thing, 
Numicius, which can make and keep a man happy. 
There are who view this sun, and the stars, and tho 
seasons retiring at certain periods, untainted with any 
fear. What do you think of the gifts of the earth? 
What of the sea, that enriches the remote Arabians 
and Indians? What of scenical shows, the applause 
and favors of the kind Roman? In what mauner do 
you think they are to be looked upon, with what appre¬ 
hensions and countenance? He that dreads the reverse 
of these, admires them almost in the same way as ho 
that desires them; fear alike disturbs both ways: an 
unforeseen turn of things equally terrifies each of them: 
let a man rejoice or grieve, desire or fear; what matters 
it—if, whatever he perceives better or worse than hi3 
expectations, with downcast look he be stupefied in mind 
and body? Let the wise man bear the name of fool, 
the just of unjust; if he pursue virtue itself beyond 
proper bounds. 

Go now, look with transport upon silver, and antique 
marble, and brazen statues, and the arts: admire gems, 
and Tyrian dyes: rejoice, that a thousand eyes are fixed 
upon you while you speak: industrious repair early to 
the forum, late to your house, that Mutus may .not 
reap more grain [than you] from his lands gained in 
dowry, and (unbecoming, since he sprung from meaner 
parents) that he may not be an object of admiration 
to you, rather than you to him. Whatever is in the 
earth, time will bring forth into open day light; will 


178 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


bury and hide things, that now shine brightest. When 
Agrippa’s portico, and the Appian way, shall have beheld 
you well known; still it remains for you to go where 
Numa and Ancus are arrived. If your side or your 
reins are afflicted with an acute disease, seek a remedy 
from the disease. Would you live happily? Who would 
not? If virtue alone can confer this, discarding 
pleasures, strenuously pursue it. Do you think virtue 
mere words, as a grove is trees? Be it your care that 
no other enter the port before you; that you lose not 
your traffic with Cibyra, with Bithynia. Let the round 
sum of a thousand talents be completed; as many more; 
further, let a third thousand succeed, and the part which 
may square the heap. For why, sovereign money gives 
a wife with a [large] portion, and credit, and friends, 
and family, and beauty; and [the goddesses], Persua¬ 
sion and Venus, grace the well-moneyed man. The king 
of the Cappadocians, rich in slaves, is in want of coin; 
be not you like him. Lucullus, as they say, being asked 
if he could lend a hundred cloaks for the stage, “How 
can I so many?” said he: “yet I will see, and send 
as many as I have; ’ ’ a little after he writes that he 
had five thousand cloaks in his house; they might take 
part of them, or all. It is a scanty house, where there 
are not many things superfluous, and which escape the 
owner’s notice, and are the gain of pilfering slaves. 
If then wealth alone can make and keep a man happy, 
be first in begining this work, be last in leaving it off. 
If appearances and popudarity make a man fortunate, 
let us purchase a slave to dictate [to us] the names [of 
the citizens], to jog us on the left-side, and to make 
us stretch our hands over obstacles: ‘ ‘ This man has 
much interest in the Fabian, that in the Veline tribe; 
this will give the fasces to any one, and indefatigably 
active, snatch the curule ivory from whom he pleases; 
add [the names of] father, brother: according as the 
age of each is, so courteously adopt him. If he who 
feasts well, lives well; it is day, let us go whither our 
appetite leads us: let us fish, let us hunt, as did some 
time Gargilius: who ordered his toils, hunting-spears, 
slaves, early in the morning to pass through the crowded 
forum and the people: that one mule among many, in 


EP. VII. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


179 


the sight of the people, might return loaded with a 
boar purchased with money. Let us bathe with an in¬ 
digested and full-swollen stomach, forgetting what is be¬ 
coming, what not; deserving to be enrolled among the 
citizens of Caere; like the depraved crew of Ulysses of 
Ithaca to whom forbidden pleasure was dearer than their 
country. If, as Mimnermus thinks, nothing is pleasant 
without love and mirth, live in love and mirth. 

Live: be happy. If you know of any thing preferable 
to these maxims, candidly communicate it: if not, with 
me make use of these. 

EPISTLE VII. 

To Mcecenas. 

He apologizes to Mcecenas for his long absence from 
Borne; and acknowledges his favors to him in such 
a manner as to declare liberty preferable to all 
other blessings . 

Having promised you that I would be in the coun¬ 
try but five days, false to my word, I am absent the 
whole of August. But, if you would have me live 
sound and in perfect health, the indulgence which you 
grant me, Maecenas, when I am ill, you will grant me 
[also] when I am afraid of being ill: while [the time 
of] the first figs, and the [autumnal] heat graces the 
undertaker with his black attendants; while every 
father and mother turn pale with fear for their chil¬ 
dren; and while over-acted diligence, and attendance at 
the forum, bring on fevers and unseal wills. But, if 
the winter shall scatter snow upon the Alban fields, 
your poet will go down to the sea-side, and be careful 
of himself, and read bundled up; you, dear friend, he 
will revisit with the zephyrs, if you will give him leave, 
and with the first swallow. 

You have made me rich, not in the manner in which 
the Calabrian host bids [his guest] eat of his pears. 
“Eat, pray, sir .” “I have had enough .” “But take 
away with you what quantity you will.” “You are 
very kind.” “You will carry them no disagreeable 




180 THE EPISTLES OF HORACE book i. 

presents to your little children.” “I am as much 
obliged by your offer, as if I were sent away loaded.” 
“As you please: you leave them to be devoured to-day 
by the hogs.” The prodigal and fool gives away what 
he despises and hates; the reaping of favors like these 
has produced, and ever will produce, ungrateful men. 
A good and wise man professes himself ready to do 
kindness to the deserving; and yet is not ignorant, 
how true coins differ from lupines. I will also show 
myself deserving of the honor of being grateful. But 
if you would not have me depart any whither, you 
must restore my vigorous constitution, the black locks 
[that grew] on my narrow forehead: you must restore 
to me the power of talking pleasantly: you must restore 
to me the art of laughing with becoming ease, and whin¬ 
ing over my liquor at the jilting of the wanton Cynara. 

A thin field-mouse had by chance crept through a 
narrow cranny into a chest of grain; and, having feasted 
itself, in vain attempted to come out again, with its 
body now stuffed full. To which a weasel at a distance 
cries, “If you would escape thence, repair lean to the 
narrow hole which you entered lean.” If I be ad¬ 
dressed with this similitude, I resign all; neither do 
I, sated with delicacies, cry up the calm repose of the 
vulgar, nor would I change my liberty and ease for 
the riches of the Arabians. You have often commended 
me for being modest; when present you heard [from 
me the appellations of] king and father, nor am I a 
word more sparing in your absence. Try whether I 
can cheerfully restore what you have given me. Not 
amiss [answered] Telemachus, son of the patient 
Ulysses: 11 The country of Ithaca is not proper for 

horses, as being neither extended into champaign fields, 
nor abounding with much grass: Atrides, I will leave 
behind me your gifts, [which are] more proper for 
yourself.” Small things best suit the small. No longer 
does imperial Rome please me, but unfrequented Tibur, 
and warlike Tarentum. 

Philip, active and strong, and famed for pleading 
causes, while returning from his employment about the 
eighth hour, and now of a great age, complaining that 
the Carinae were too far distant from the forum; spied, 


ep. vii. THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


181 


as they say, a person clean shaven in a barber’s empty 
shed, composedly paring his own nails with a knife. 
“Demetrius,” [says he,] (this slave dexterously re¬ 
ceived his master’s orders) “go inquire, and bring me 
word from what house, who he is, of what fortune, who 
is his father, or who is his patron.” He goes, returns, 
and relates, that “he is by name Yulteius Maena, an 
auctioneer, of small fortune, of a character perfectly 
unexceptionable, that he could upon occasion ply busily, 
and take his ease, and get, and spend; delighting in 
humble companions and a settled dwelling, and (after 
business ended) in the shows, and the Campus Martius.” 

‘ ‘ I would inquire of him himself all this, which you 
report; bid him come to, sup with me.” Maena can 
not believe it: he wonders silently within himself. Why 
many words? He answers, “It is kind.” “Can he 
deny me?” “The rascal denies, and disregards or 
dreads you.” In the morning Philip comes unawares 
upon Yulteius, as he is selling brokery-goods to the 
tunic’d populace, and salutes him first. He pleads to 
Philip his employment, and the confinement of his 
business, in excuse for not having waited upon him in 
the morning; and afterward, for not seeing him first. 
“Expect that I will excuse you on this condition, that 
you sup with me to-day.” “As you please.” “Then 
you will come after the ninth hour: now go, strenuously 
increase your stock.” When they were come to supper, 
having discoursed of things of a public and private 
nature, at length he is dismissed to go to sleep. When 
he had often been seen to repair like a fish to the 
concealed hook, in the morning a client, and now as a 
constant guest; he is desired to accompany [Philip] 
to his country-seat near the city, at the proclaiming of 
the Latin festivals. Mounted on horseback, he ceases 
not to cry up the Sabine fields and air. Philip sees it, 
and smiles: and, while he is seeking amusement and 
diversion for himself out of every thing, while he makes 
him a present of seven thousand sesterces, and promises 
to lend him seven thousand more: he persuades him tq 
purchase a farm: he purchases one. That I may not 
detain you with a long story beyond what is necessary, 
from a smart cit he becomes a downright rustic, and 


182 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


prates of nothing but furrows and vineyards; prepares 
his elms; is ready to die with eager diligence, and 
grows old through a passionate desire of possessing. 
But when his sheep were lost by theft, his goats by a 
distemper, his harvest deceived his hopes, his ox was 
killed with plowing; fretted with these losses, at mid¬ 
night he snatches his nag, and in a passion makes his 
way to Philip’s house. When as soon as Philip beheld, 
rough and unshaven, “Vulteius,” said he, “you seem 
to me to be too laborious and earnest.” “In truth, 
patron,” replied he, “you would call me a wretch, if 
you would apply to me my true name. I beseech 
and conjure you then, by your genius and your right 
hand and your household gods, restore me to my former 
life. ’ ’ As soon as a man perceives, how much the things 
he has discarded excel those which he pursues, let him 
return in time, and resume those which he relinquished. 

It is a truth, that every one ought to measure himself 
by his own proper foot and standard. 


EPISTLE VIII. 

To Celsus AXbinovanus . 

That he was neither well in tody, nor in mind; that 
Celsus should hear his prosperity with moderation. 

My muse at my request, gives joy and wish success 
to Celsus Albinovanus, the attendant and the secretary 
of Nero. If he shall inquire, what I am doing, say 
that I, though promising many and fine things, yet live 
neither well [according to the rules of strict philosophy], 
nor agreeably; not because the hail has crushed my 
vines, and the heat has nipped my olives; nor because 
my herds are distempered in distant pastures; but be¬ 
cause, less sound in my mind than in my whole body, I 
will hear nothing, learn nothing which may relieve me, 
diseased as I am; that I am displeased with my faithful 
physicians, am angry with my friends for being in¬ 
dustrious to rouse me from a fatal lethargy; that I 
pursue things which have done me hurt, avoid things 


ep. ix. x. THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


183 


which I am persuaded would be of service, inconstant 
as the wind, at Rome am in love with Tibur, at Tibur 
with Rome. After this, inquire how he does; how he 
manages his business and himself; how he pleases the 
young prince and his attendants. If he shall say, well; 
first congratulate him, then remember to whisper this 
admonition in his ears: As you, Celsus, bear your for¬ 
tunes, so will we bear you. 

EPISTLE IX. 

To Claudius Tiberius Nero. 

He recommends Septimius to him. 

Of all the men in the world Septimius surely, O 
Claudius, knows how much regard you have for me. 
For when he requests, and by his entreaties in a manner 
compels me, to undertake to recommend and introduce 
him to you, as one worthy of the confidence and the 
household of Nero, who is wont to choose deserving 
objects, thinking I discharge the office of an intimate 
friend; he sees and knows better than myself what 
I can do. I said a great deal, indeed, in order that 
I might come off excused: but I was afraid, lest I 
should be suspected to pretend my interest was less 
than it is, to be a dissembler of my own power, and 
ready to serve myself alone. So, avoiding the reproach 
of a greater fault, I have put in for the prize of town- 
bred confidence. If then you approve of modesty being 
superseded at the pressing entreaties of a friend, enrol 
this person among your retinue, and believe him to be 
brave and good. 


EPISTLE X. 

To Aristius Fuscus. 

He praises a country before a city life, as more agreeable, 
to nature, and more friendly to liberty. 

We, who love the country, salute Fuscus that loves 
the town; in this point alone [being] much unlike, but 


184 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


in other things almost twins, of brotherly sentiments: 
whatever one denies, the other too [denies]; we assent 
together: like old and constant doves, you keep the nest; 
I praise the rivulets, the rocks overgrown with moss, 
and the groves of the delightful country. Do you ask 
why? I live and reign, as soon as I have quitted those 
things which you extol to the skies with joyful applause. 
And, like a priest’s fugitive slave, I reject luscious 
wafers; I desire plain bread, which is more agreeable 
now than honied cakes. 

If we must live suitably to nature, and a plot of 
ground is to be first sought to raise a house upon, do 
you know any place preferable to the blissful country? 
Is there any spot where the winters are more temperate? 
where a more agreeable breeze moderates the rage of 
the Dog-star, and the season of the Lion, when once that 
furious sign has received the scorching sun? Is there a 
place where envious care less disturbs our slumbers? Is 
the grass inferior in smell or beauty to the Libyan 
pebbles? Is the water, which strives to burst the lead 
in the streets, purer than that which trembles in murmurs 
down its sloping channel? Why, trees are nursed along 
the variegated columns [of the city]; and that house 
is commended, which has a prospect of distant fields. 
You may drive out nature with a fork, yet still she 
will return, and, insensibly victorious, will break through 
[men’s] improper disgusts. 

Not he who is unable to compare the fleeces that 
drink up the dye of Aquinum with the Sidonian purple, 
will receive a more certain damage and nearer to his 
marrow, than he who shall not be able to distinguish 
false from true. He who has been overjoyed by pros¬ 
perity, will be shocked by a change of circumstances. 
If you admire any thing [greatly], you will be unwilling 
to resign it. Avoid great things; under a mean roof 
one may outstrip kings, and the favorites of kings, in 
one’s life. 

The stag, superior in fight, drove the horse from the 
common pasture, till the latter, worsted in the long 
contest, implored the aid of man and received the 
Iridle; but after he had parted an exulting conqueror 
from his enemy, he could not shake the rider from his 


EP. XI. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


185 


back, nor the bit from his mouth. So he who, afraid 
of poverty, forfeits his liberty, more valuable than mines, 
avaricious wretch, shall carry a master, and shall eter¬ 
nally be a slave, for not knowing how to use a little. 
When, a man’s condition does not suit him, it will be as a 
shoe at any time; which, if too big for his foot, will 
throw him down; if too little, will pinch him. [If you 
arej cheerful under your lot, Aristius, you will live 
wisely; nor shall you let me go uncorrected, if I appear 
to scrape together more than enough and not have done. 
Accumulated money is the master or slave of each owner, 
and ought rather to follow than to lead the twisted 
rope. 

These I dictated to thee behind the moldering temple 
of Vacuna; in all other things happy, except that thou 
wast not with me. 


EPISTLE XI. 

To Bullatius. 

Endeavoring to recall him back to Borne from Asia, 
whither he had retreated through his weariness of 
the civil wars, he advises him to ease the disquietude 
of his mind not by the length of his journey, but 
by forming his mind into a right disposition. 

What, Bullatius, do you think of Chios, and of cele¬ 
brated Lesbos? What of neat Samos? What of Sardis, 
the royal residence of Croesus? What of Smyrna, and 
Colophon? Are they greater or less than their fame? 
Are they all contemptible in comparison of the Campus 
Martius and the river Tiber? Does one of Attalus’ 
cities enter into your wish? Or do you admire Lebedus, 
through a surfeit of the sea and of traveling? You 
know what Lebedus is; it is a more unfrequented town 
than Gabii and Fidense; yet there would I be willing 
to live; and, forgetful of my friends and forgotten by 
them, view from land Neptune raging at a distance. 
But neither he who comes to Rome from Capua, be¬ 
spattered with rain and mire, would wish to live in an 


186 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


inn; nor does he, who has contracted a cold, cry up 
Btoves and bagnios as completely furnishing a happy 
life: nor, if the violent south wind has tossed you in 
the deep, will you therefore sell your ship on the other 
side of the JEgean Sea. On a man sound in mind 
Rhodes and beautiful Mitylene have such an effect, as 
a thick cloak at the summer solstice, thin drawers in 
snowy weather, [bathing in] the Tiber in winter, a fire 
in the month of August. While it is permitted, and 
fortune preserves a benign aspect, let absent Samos, 
and Chios, and Rhodes, be commended by you here at 
Rome. Whatever prosperous hour Providence bestows 
upon you, receive it with a thankful hand: and defer 
not [the enjoyment of] the comforts of life, till a year 
be at an end; that in whatever place you are, you may 
say you have lived with satisfaction. For if reason 
and discretion, not a place that commands a prospect 
of the wide-extended sea, remove our cares; they change 
their climate, not their disposition, who run beyond the 
sea: a busy idleness harrasses us: by ships and by 
chariots we seek to live happily. What you seek is here 
[at home], is at Ulubrae, if a just temper of mind is 
not wanting to you. 


EPISTLE XII. 

To Iccvus. 

Under the appearance of praising the man’s parsimony , 
he archly ridicules it; introduces Grosphus to him, 
and concludes with a few articles of news concern¬ 
ing the Homan affairs. 

O Iccius, if you rightly enjoy the Sicilian products, 
which you collect for Agrippa, it is not possible that 
greater affluence can be given you by Jove. Away with 
complaints! for that man is by no means poor, who has 
the use of every thing he wants. If it is well with 
your belly, your back, and your feet, regal wealth can 
add nothing greater. If perchance abstemious amid 
profusion you live upon salad and shell-fish, you will 


ep. xiii. THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


187 


continue to live in such a manner, even if presently for¬ 
tune shall flow upon you in a river of gold: either be¬ 
cause money can not change the natural disposition, or 
because it is your opinion that all things are inferior to 
virtue alone. Can we wonder that cattle feed upon the 
meadows and corn-fields of Democritus, while his active 
soul is abroad [traveling] without his body? When 
you, amid such great impurity and infection of profit, 
have no taste for any thing trivial, but still mind [only] 
sublime things: what causes restrain the sea, what 
rules the year, whether the stars spontaneously or by 
direction wander about and are erratic, what throws 
obscurity on the moon, and what brings out her orb, 
what is the intention and power of the jarring harmony 
of things, whether Empedocles or the clever Stertinius be 
in the wrong? 

However, whether you murder fishes, or onions and 
garlic, receive Pompeius Grosphus; and, if he asks any 
favor, grant it him frankly: Grosphus will desire nothing 
but what is right and just. The proceeds of friendship 
are cheap, when good men want anything. 

But that you may not be ignorant in what situation 
the Roman affairs are; the Cantabrians have fallen by 
the valor of Agrippa, the Armenians by that of Claudius 
Nero: Phraates has, suppliant on his knees, admitted 
the laws and power of Caesar. Golden plenty has poured 
out the fruits of Italy from a full horn. 


EPISTLE XIII. 

To Vinnius Asina. 

Horace cautions him to present his poems to Augustus 
at a proper opportunity, and with due decorum. 

4s on your setting out I frequently and fully gave 
you instructions, Vinnius, that you would present these 
volumes to Augustus sealed up if he shall be in health, 
if in spirits, finally, if he shall ask for them: do not 
offend out of zeal to me, and industriously bring an 
odium upon my books [by being] an agent of violent 


188 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


officiousness. If haply the heavy load of my paper 
shall gall you, cast it from you, rather than throw down 
your pack in a rough manner where you are directed 
to carry it, and turn your paternal name of Asina into 
a jest, and make yourself a common story. Make use 
of your vigor over the hills, the rivers, and the fens. 
As soon as you have achieved your enterprise, and 
arrived there, you must keep your burden in this posi¬ 
tion ; lest you happen to carry my bundle of books 
under your arm, as a clown does a lamb, or as drunken 
Pyrrhia [in the play does] the balls of pilfered wool, 
or as a tribe-guest his slippers with his fuddling-cap. 
You must not tell publicly, how you sweated with 
carrying those verses, which may detain the eyes and 
ears of Caesar. Solicited with much entreaty, do your 
best. Finally, get you gone, farewell: take care you 
do not stumble, and break my orders. 


EPISTLE XIV. 

To His Steward. 

He upbraids his levity for contemning a country life, 
which had been his choice, and being eager to return 
to Home. 

Steward of my woodlands and little farm that restores 
me to myself, which you despise, [though formerly] in¬ 
habited by five families, and wont to send five good 
senators to Varia: let us try, whether I with more 
fortitude pluck the thorns out of my mind, or you out 
of my ground: and whether Horace or his estate be in 
a better condition. 

Though my affection and solicitude for Lamia, mourn¬ 
ing for his brother; lamenting inconsolably for his 
brother’s loss, detain me; nevertheless my heart and 
soul carry me thither and long to break through those 
barriers that obstruct my way. I pronounce him the 
happy man who dwells in the country, you him [who 
lives] in the city. He to whom his neighbor’s lot is 
agreeable, must of consequence dislike his own. Each 


ep. xiv. THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


189 


of us is a fool for unjustly blaming the innocent place. 
The mind is in fault, which never escapes from itself. 
When you were a drudge at every one’s beck, you 
tacitly prayed for the country: and now, [being ap¬ 
pointed] my steward, you wish for the city, the shows, 
and the baths. You know I am consistent with myself, 
and loth to go, whenever disagreeable business drags 
me to Rome. We are not admirers of the same things: 
hence you and I disagree. For what you reckon desert 
and inhospitable wilds, he who is of my way of thinking 
calls delightful places; and dislikes what you esteem 
pleasant. The bagnio, I perceive, and the greasy tavern 
raise your inclination for the city: and this, because 
my little spot will sooner yield frankincense and pepper 
than grapes; nor is there a tavern near, which can 
supply you with wine; nor a minstrel harlot, to whose 
thrumming you may dance, cumbersome to the ground: 
and yet you exercise with plowshares the fallows that 
have been a long while untouched, you take due care 
of the ox when unyoked, and give him his till with leaves 
stripped [from the boughs]. The sluice gives an addi¬ 
tional trouble to an idle fellow, which, if a shower 
fall, must be taught by many a mound to spare the 
sunny meadow. 

Come now, attend to what hinders our agreeing. 
[Me,] whom fine garments and dressed locks adorned, 
whom you know to have pleased venal Cynara without 
a present, whom [you have seen] quaff flowing Falernian 
from noon—a short supper [now] delights, and a nap 
upon the green turf by the stream side: nor is it a 
shame to have been gay, but not to break off that 
gayety. There there is no one who reduces my posses¬ 
sions with envious eye, nor poisons them with obscure 
malice and biting slander; the neighbors smile at me 
removing clods and stones. You had rather be munch¬ 
ing your daily allowance with the slaves in town; you 
earnestly pray to be of the number of these: [while my] 
cunning foot-boy envies you the use of the firing, the 
flocks, and the garden. The lazy ox wishes for the • 
horse’s trappings: the horse wishes to go to plow. But 
I shall be of opinion, that each of them ought con¬ 
tentedly to exercise that art which he understands. 


m 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


EPISTLE XV. 

To C. Neumonius Yala. 

Preparing to go to the baths either at Velia or Salernum, 
he inquires after the healthfulness and agreeableness 
of the places. 

It is your part, Vala, to write to me (and mine to 
give credit to your information) what sort of a winter 
it is at Velia, what the air at Salernum, what kind of 
inhabitants the country consists of, and how the road 
is (for Antonius Musa [pronounces] Baia? to be of no 
service to me; yet makes me obnoxious to the place, 
when I am bathed in cold water even in the midst of 
the frost [by his prescription]. In truth, the village 
murmurs at their myrtle-groves being deserted, and the 
sulphurous waters, said to expel lingering disorders from 
the nerves, despised; envying those invalids, who have 
the courage to expose their head and breast to the 
Clusian springs, and retire to Gabii and [such] cold 
countries. My course must be altered, and my horse 
driven beyond his accustomed stages. Whither are you 
going? will the angry rider say, pulling in the left- 
hand rein, I am not bound for Cumae or Baiae:—but the 
horse’s ear is in the bit). [You must inform me like¬ 
wise] which of the two people is supported by the 
greatest abundance of corn; whether they drink rain¬ 
water collected [in reservoirs], or from perennial wells 
of never-failing water (for as to the wine of that part 
I give myself no trouble; at my country-seat I can 
dispense and bear with any thing: but when I have 
arrived at a sea-port, I insist upon that which is 
generous and mellow, such as may drive away my cares, 
such as may flow into my veins and animal spirits with 
a rich supply of hope, such as may supply me with 
words, such as may make me appear young to my 
Lucanian mistress). Which tract of land produces most 
hares, which boars: which seas harbor the most fishes 
and sea-urchins, that I may be able to return home 
thence in good case, and like a Phaeacian. 


EP. XVI. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


191 


When Msenius, having bravely made away with his 
paternal and maternal estates, began to be accounted 
a merry fellow—a vagabond droll, who had no certain 
place of living; who, when dinnerless, could not dis¬ 
tinguish a fellow-citizen from an enemy; unmerciful in 
forging any scandal against any person; the pest, and 
hurricane, and gulf of the market; whatever he could 
get, he gave to his greedy gut. This fellow, when he 
had extorted little or nothing from the favorers of his 
iniquity, or those that dreaded it, would eat up whole 
dishes of coarse tripe and lamb’s entrails; as much as 
would have sufficed three bears; then truly, [like] re¬ 
former Bestius, would he say, that the bellies of ex¬ 
travagant fellows ought to be branded with a red-hot 
iron. The same man [however], when he had reduced 
to smoke and ashes whatever more considerable booty 
he had gotten; ’Faith, said he, I do not wonder if some 
persons cat up their estates; since nothing is better 
than a fat thrust, nothing finer than a large sow’s 
paunch. In fact, I am just such another myself; for, 
when matters are a little deficient, I commend the snug 
and homely fare, of sufficient resolution amid mean pro¬ 
visions; but, if any thing be offered better and more 
delicate, I, the same individual, cry out, that ye are wise 
and alone live well, whose wealth and estate are con¬ 
spicuous from the elegance of your villas. 


EPISTLE XVI. 

To Quinctius. 

lie describes to Quinctius the form, situation, and ad¬ 
vantages of his country-house: then declares that 
probity consists in the consciousness of good works; 
liberty, in probity. 

Ask me not, my best Quinctius, whether my farm 
maintains its master with cornfields, or enriches him 
with olives, or with fruits, or meadow land, or the elm- 
tree clothed with vines: the shape and situation of my 
ground shall be described to you at large. 


192 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


There is a continued range of mountains, except where 
they are separated by a shadowy vale; but in such a 
manner, that the approaching sun views it on the right 
side, and departing in his flying car warms the left. 
You would commend its temperature. What? If my 
[very] briers produce in abundance the ruddy cornels 
and damsens? If my oak and holm-tree accommodate 
my cattle with plenty of acorns, and their master with 
a copious shade? You would say that Tarentum, brought 
nearer [to Rome], shone in its verdant beauty. A foun¬ 
tain too, deserving to give name to a river, insomuch 
that Hebrus does not surround Thrace more cool or 
more limpid, flows salubrious to the infirm head, salubri¬ 
ous to the bowels. These sweet, yea now (if you will 
credit me) these delightful retreats preserve me to you 
in a state of health [even] in the September season. 

You live well, if you take care to support the character 
which you bear. Long ago, all Rome has proclaimed you 
happy: but I am apprehensive, lest you should give more 
credit concerning yourself to any one than yourself; and 
lest you should imagine a man happy, who differs from 
the wise and good; or, because the people pronounce you 
sound and perfectly well, lest you dissemble the lurking 
fever at meal-times, until a trembling seize your greased 
hands. The false modesty of fools conceals ulcers [rather 
than have them cured]. If any one should mention bat¬ 
tles which you had fought by land and sea, and in such 
expressions as these should soothe your listening ears: 
“May Jupiter, who consults the safety both of you and 
of the city, keep it in doubt, whether the people be more 
solicitous for your welfare, or you for the people’s ; 11 
you might perceive these encomiums to belong [only] 
to Augustus: when you suffer yourself to be termed a 
philosopher, and one of a refined life; say, pr’ythee, 
would you answer [to these appellations] in your own 
name? To be sure—I like to be called a wise and good 
man, as well as you. He who gave this character 
to-day, if he will, can take it away to-morrow: as the 
same people, if they have conferred the consulship on 
an unworthy person, may take it away from him: 
“Resign; it is ours,” they cry: I do resign it accord¬ 
ingly, and chagrined withdraw. Thus if they should 


ep. xvi. THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


193 


call me rogue, deny me to be temperate, assert that I 
had strangled my own father with a halter; shall I be 
stung, and change color at these false reproaches? 
Whom does false honor delight, or lying calumny ter¬ 
rify, except the vicious and sickly-minded? Who then 
is a good man? He who observes the decrees of the 
senate, the laws and rules of justice; by whose arbi¬ 
tration many and important disputes are decided; by 
whose surety private property, and by Whose testimony 
causes are safe. Yet [perhaps] his own family and all 
the neighborhood observe this man, specious in a fair 
outside, [to be] polluted within. If a slave should say 
to me, ‘ ‘ I have not committed a robbery, nor run 
away:” “You have your reward; you are not galled 
with the lash, ’ ’ I reply. 11 1 have not killed any man: ’ ’ 
“You shall not [therefore] feed the carrion crows on 
the cross .’’ I am a good man, and thrifty: your Sabine 
friend denies, and contradicts the fact. For the wary 
wolf dreads the pitfall, and the hawk the suspected 
snares, and the kite the concealed hook. The good, [on 
the contrary,] hate to sin from the love of virtue; you 
will commit no crime merely for the fear of punish¬ 
ment. Let there be a prospect of escaping, you will 
confound sacred and profane things together. For, 
when from a thousand bushels of beans you filch one, 
the loss in that case to me is less, but not villainy. The 
honest man, whom every forum and every court of 
justice looks upon with reverence, whenever he makes 
an atonement to the gods with a swine or an ox; after 
he has pronounced in a clear distinguishable voice, 11 0 
father Janus, O Apollo;” moves his lips as one afraid 
of being heard; “ O fair Laverna put it in my power 
to deceive; grant me the appearance of a just and 
upright man: throw a cloud of night over my frauds.” 
I do not see how a covetous man can be better, how 
more free than a slave, when he stoops down for the 
sake of a penny, stuck in the road [for sport]. For 
he who will be covetous, will also be anxious: but he 
that lives in a state of anxiety, will never in my estima¬ 
tion be free. He who is always in a hurry, and im¬ 
mersed in the study of augmenting his fortune, has lost 
the arms, and deserted the post of virtue. Do not kill 


194 


THE EPISTLE OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


your captive, if you can sell him: he will serve you 
advantageously: let him, being inured to drudgery, feed 
[your cattle], and plow; let him go to sea, and winter 
in the midst of the waves; let him be of use to the 
market, and import corn and provisions. A good and 
wise man will have courage to say, “Pentheus, king of 
Thebes, what indignities will you compel me to suffer 
and endure. ‘ I will take away your goods: ’ my cattle, 
I suppose, my land, my movables and money: you may 
take them. ‘ I will confine you with hand-cuffs and 
fetters under a merciless jailer.’ The deity himself 
will discharge me, whenever I please.” In my opinion, 
this is his meaning; I will die. Death is the ultimate 
boundary of human matters. 


EPISTLE XVII. 

To Scceva. 

That a life of business is preferable to a private and 
inactive one; the friendship of great men is a laud¬ 
able acquisition, yet their favors are ever to be 
solicited with modesty and caution. 

Though, Scaeva, you have sufficient prudence of your 
own, and well know how to demean yourself toward 
your superiors; [yet] hear what are the sentiments of 
your old crony, who himself still requires teaching, just 
as if a blind man should undertake to show the way: 
however see, if even I can advance any thing, which 
you may think worth your while to adopt as your own. 

If pleasant rest, and sleep till seven o’clock delight 
you; if dust and the rumbling of wheels, if the tavern 
offend you; I shall order you off for Ferentinum. For 
joys are not the property of the rich alone: nor has he 
lived ill, who at his birth and at his death has passed 
unnoticed. If you are disposed to be of service to your 
friends, and treat yourself with somewhat more in¬ 
dulgence, you, being poor, must pay your respects to the 
great. Aristippus, if he could dine to his satisfaction 
on herbs, would never frequent [the tables] of the 


ep. xvii. THE EPISTLES OF’HORACE 


195 


great. If he who blames me, [replies Aristippus,] knew 
how to live with the great, he would scorn his vegetables. 
Tell me, which maxim and conduct of the two you 
approve; or, since you are my junior, hear the reason 
why Aristippus’ opinion is preferable; for thus, as they 
report, he baffled the snarling cynic: “I play the buffoon 
for my own advantage, you [to please] the populace. 
This [conduct of mine] is better and far more honor¬ 
able; that a horse may carry, and a great man feed 
me, pay court to the great: you beg for refuse, an 
inferior to the [poor] giver; though you pretend you 
are in want of nothing. As for Aristippus, every com¬ 
plexion of life, every station and circumstance sat 
gracefully upon him, aspiring in general to greater 
things, yet equal to the present: on the other hand, I 
shall be much surprised, if a contrary way of life should 
become [this cynic], whom obstinacy clothes with a 
double rag. The one will not wait for his purple robe; 
but dressed in any thing, will go through the most 
frequented places, and without awkwardness support 
either character: the other will shun the cloak wrought 
at Miletus with greater aversion than [the bite of] dog 
or viper: he will die with cold, unless you restore him 
his ragged garment: restore it, and let him live like 
a fool as he is. To perform exploits, and show the 
citizens their foes in chains, reaches the throne of 
Jupiter, and aims at celestial honors. To have been 
acceptable to the great, is not the last of praises. It is 
not every man’s lot to gain Corinth. He [prudently] 
sat still, who was afraid lest he should not succeed: be 
it so; what then? Was it not bravely done by him, 
who carried his point? Either here therefore, or no¬ 
where, is what we are investigating. The one dreads 
the burden, as too much for a pusillanimous soul and 
a weak constitution; the other undertakes, and carries 
it through. Either virtue is an empty name, or the 
man who makes the experiment deservedly claims the 
honor and the reward. 

Those who mention nothing of their poverty before 
their lord, will gain more than the importunate. There 
is a great difference between modestly accepting, or 
seizing by violence. But this was the principle and 


196 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


source of every thing [which I alleged]. He who says, 
“My sister is without a portion, my mother poor, and 
my estate neither saleable nor sufficient for my sup¬ 
port, ” cries out [in effect], “Give me a morsel of 
bread: ’ ’ another whines, 11 And let the platter be carved 
out for me with half a share of the bounty. ’ ’ But if 
the crow could have fed in silence, he would have had 
better fare, and much less of quarreling and of envy. 

A companion taken [by his lord] to Brundusium, or 
the pleasant Surrentum, who complains of the rugged¬ 
ness of the roads and the bitter cold and rains, or 
laments that his chest is broken open and his provisions 
stolen; resembles the well-known tricks of a harlot, 
weeping frequently for her necklace, frequently for a 
garter forcibly., taken from her; so that at length no 
credit is given to her real griefs and losses. Nor does 
he, who has been once ridiculed in the streets, care to 
lift up a vagrant with a [pretended] broken leg; though 
abundant tears should flow from him; though, swearing 
by holy Osiris, he says, “Believe me, I do not impose 
upon you; O cruel, take up the lame .” “Seek out for 
a stranger,” cries the hoarse neighborhood. 


EPISTLE XVIII. 

To Lollius. 

He treats at large upon the cultivation of the favor of 
great men; and concludes with a few words con¬ 
cerning the acquirement of peace of mind. 

If I rightly know your temper, most ingenuous Lollius, 
you will beware of imitating a flatterer, while you profess 
yourself a friend. As a matron is unlike and of a differ¬ 
ent aspect from a strumpet, so will a true friend differ 
from the toad-eater. There is an opposite vice to this, 
rather the greater [of the two]; a clownish, inelegant, 
and disagreeable bluntness, which would recommend it¬ 
self by an unshaven, face and black teeth; while it de¬ 
sires to be termed pure freedom and true sincerity. Vir¬ 
tue is the medium of the two vices; and equally remote 


ep. xvm. THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


197 


from either. The one is over-prone to complaisance, and 
& jester of the lowest couch, he so reverences the rich 
man’s nod, so repeats his speeches, and catches up his 
falling words; that you would take him for a school-boy 
saying his lesson to a rigid master, or a player acting an 
underpart; another often wrangles about a goat’s hair, 
and armed engages for any trifle: “That I, truly, should 
not have the first credit; and that I should not boldly 
speak aloud, what is my real sentiment—[upon such 
terms], another life would be of no value.” But what 
is the subject of this controversy? Why, whether [the 
gladiator] Castor or Dolichos be the cleverer fellow; 
whether the Minucian, or the Appian, be the better road 
to Brundusium? 

Him whom pernicious lust, whom quick-dispatching 
dice strips, whom vanity dresses out and perfumes be¬ 
yond his abilities, whom insatiable hunger and thirst 
after money, whom a shame and aversion to poverty 
possess, his rich friend (though furnished with a half¬ 
score more vices) hates and abhors; or if he does not 
hate, governs him; and, like a pious mother, would have 
him more wise and virtuous than himself; and says what 
is nearly true: “My riches (think not to emulate me) 
admit of extravagance; your income is but small: a 
scanty gown becomes a prudent dependant: cease to vie 
with me.” Whomsoever Eutrapelus had a mind to 
punish, he presented with costly garments. For now 
[said he] happy in his fine clothes, he will assume new 
schemes and hopes; he will sleep till daylight; prefer 
a harlot to his honest-calling; run into debt; and at 
last become a gladiator, or drive a gardener’s hack for 

hire. , . , A 

Do not you at any time pry into his secrets; and 
keep close what is intrusted to you, though put to the 
torture, by wine or passion. Neither commend your own 
inclinations, nor find fault with those of others; nor, 
when he is disposed to hunt, do you make verses, for 
by such means the amity of the twins Zethus and Am- 
phion, broke off; till the lyre, disliked by the austere 
brother, was silent. Amphion is thought to have given 
way to his brother’s humors; so do you yield to the 
gentle dictates of your friend in power: as often as he 


198 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE book i. 


leads forth his dogs into the fields and his cattle laden 
with JEtolian nets, arise and lay aside the peevishness 
of your unmannerly muse, that you may sup together on 
the delicious fare purchased by ypur labor; an exercise 
habitual to the manly Romans, of service to their fame 
and life and limbs: especially when you are in health, 
and are able either to excel the dog in swiftness, or the 
boar in strength. Add [to this], that there is no one 
who handles martial weapons more gracefully. You well 
know, with what acclamations of the spectators you sus¬ 
tain the combats in the Campus Martius: in fine, as yet 
a boy, you endured a bloody campaign and the Can¬ 
tabrian wars, beneath a commander, who is now replac¬ 
ing the standards [recovered] from the Parthian 
temples: and, if any thing is wanting, assigns it to the 
Roman arms. And that you may not withdraw your¬ 
self, and inexcusably be absent; though you are careful 
to do nothing out of measure and moderation, yet you 
sometimes amuse yourself at your country-seat. The 
[mock] fleet divides the little boats [into two squadrons]: 
the Actian sea-fight is represented by boys under your 
direction in a hostile form: your brother is the foe, your 
lake the Adriatic; till rapid victory crowns the one or 
the other with her bays. Your patron, who will perceive 
that you come into his taste, will applaud your sports with 
both his hands. 

Moreover, that I may advise you (if in aught you 
stand in need of an adviser), take great circumspection 
what you say tQ any man, and to whom. Avoid an in¬ 
quisitive impertinent, for such a one is also a tattler, nor 
do open ears faithfully retain what is intrusted to them; 
and a word, once sent abroad, flies irrevocably. 

Let no slave within the marble threshold of your 
honored friend inflame your heart; lest the owner of 
the beloved damsel gratify you with so trifling a present, 
or, mortifying [to your wishes], torment you [with a 
refusal]. 

Look over and over again [into the merits of] such a 
one, as you recommend; lest afterward the faults of 
others strike you with shame. We are sometimes im¬ 
posed upon, and now and then introduce an unworthy 
person. Wherefore, once deceived, forbear to defend one 


ep. xviii. THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


199 


who suffers by his own bad conduct; but protect one 
whom you entirely know, and with confidence guard him 
with your patronage, if false accusations attack him: 
who being bitten with the tooth of calumny, do you not 
perceive that the same danger is threatening you? For 
it is your own concern, when the adjoining wall is on 
fire: and flames neglected are wont to gain strength. 

The attending of the levee of a friend in power seems 
delightful to the unexperienced; the experienced dreads 
it. Do you, while your vessel is in the main, ply your 
business, lest a changing gale bear you back again. 

The melancholy hate the merry, and the jocose the 
melancholy; the volatile [dislike] the sedate, the indolent 
the stirring and vivacious: the quaffers of pure Falernian 
from midnight hate one who shirks his turn; notwith¬ 
standing you swear you are afraid of the fumes of wine 
by night. Dispel gloominess from your forehead: the 
modest man generally carries the look of a sullen one; 
the reserved, of a churl. 

In every thing you must read and consult the learned, 
by what means you may be enabled to pass your life in 
an agreeable manner: that insatiable desire may not 
agitate and torment you, nor the fear and hope of things 
that are but of little account: whether learning acquires 
virtue, or nature bestows it. What lessens cares, what 
may endear you to yourself? What perfectly renders 
the temper calm; honor, or enticing lucre, or a secret 
passage and the path of an unnoticed life? 

For my part, as often as the cooling rivulet Digentia 
refreshes me (Digentia, of which Mandela drinks, a vil¬ 
lage wrinkled with cold); what, my friend, do you think 
are my sentiments, what do you imagine I pray for? 
Why, that my fortune may remain as it is now; or 
even [if it be something] less: and that I may live to 
myself, what remains of my time, if the gods wull that 
aught do remain: that I may have a good store of books, 
and corn provided for the year; lest I fluctuate in sus¬ 
pense of each uncertain hour. But it is sufficient to sue 
to Jove [for these externals], which he gives and takes 
away [at pleasure]; let him grant life, let him grant 
wealth: I myself will provide equanimity of temper. 


200 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE book i. 


EPISTLE XIX. 

To Maecenas. 

He shows the folly of some persons, who would imitate; 
and the envy of others, who would censure him. 

O learned Maecenas, if you believe old Cratinus, no 
verses which are written by water-drinkers can please, 
or be long-lived. Ever since Bacchus enlisted the brain¬ 
sick poets among the Satyrs and the Fauns, the sweet 
muses have usually smelt of wine in the morning. Homer, 
by his excessive praises of wine, is convicted as a booser: 
father Ennius himself never sallied forth to sing of arms, 
unless in drink. “I will condemn the sober to the bar 
and the praetor’s bench, and deprive the abstemious of 
the power of singing.” 

As soon as he gave out this edict, the poets did not 
cease to contend in midnight cups, and to smell of them 
by day. What! if any savage, by a stern countenance 
and bare feet, and the texture of a scanty gown, should 
imitate Cato; will he represent the virtue and morals of 
Cato? The tongue that imitated Timagenes was the de¬ 
struction of the Moor, while he affected to be humorous, 
and attempted to seem eloquent. The example that is 
imitable, in its faults, deceives [the ignorant]. Soh! if 
I was to grow up pale by accident, [these poetasters] 
would drink the blood-thinning cumin. O ye imitators, 
ye servile herd, how often your bustlings have stirred 
my bile, how often my mirth! 

I was the original, who set my free footsteps upon 
the vacant sod; I trod not in ’the steps of others. He 
who depends upon himself, as leader, commands the 
swarm. I first showed to Italy the Parian iambics: fol¬ 
lowing the numbers and spirit of Archilochus, but not 
his subject and style, which afflicted Lycambes. You 
must not, however, crown me with a more sparing wreath, 
because I was afraid to alter the measure and structure 
of his verse: for the manly Sappho governs her muse by 
the measures of Archilochus, so does Alcaeus; but differ¬ 
ing from him in the materials and disposition [of his 


EP. XX. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


201 


lines], neither does he seek for a father-in-law whom he 
tnay defame with his fatal lampoons, nor does he tie a 
rope for his betrothed spouse in scandalous verse. Him 
too, never celebrated by any other tongue, I the Roman 
lyrist first made known. It delights me, as I bring out 
new productions, to be perused by the eyes, and held in 
the hands of the ingenuous. 

Would you know why the ungrateful reader extols and 
is fond of many works at home, unjustly decries, them 
without doors? I hunt not after the applause of the in¬ 
constant vulgar, at the expense of entertainments, and 
for the bribe of a worn-out coat: I am not an auditor of 
noble writers, nor a vindictive reciter, nor condescend to 
court the tribes and desks of the grammarians. Hence 
are these tears. If I say that “I am ashamed to repeat 
my worthless writings to crowded theaters, and give an 
air of consequence to trifles: ’ ’ 1 1 You ridicule us, ’ ’ says 
[one of them], “and you reserve those pieces for the 
ears of Jove: you are confident that it is you alone that 
can distill the poetic honey, beautiful in your own eyes. ’ ’ 
At these words I am afraid to turn up my nose; and 
lest I should be torn by the acute nails of my adversary, 
‘ ‘ This place is disagreeable, ’ ’ I cry out, ‘ 1 and I demand 
a prorogation of the contest.*’ For contest is wont to 
beget trembling jmulation and strife, and strife cruel 
enmities and funereal war. 


EPISTLE XX. 

To His Book. 

In vain he endeavors to retain his hook, desirous of get¬ 
ting abroad; tells it what trouble it is to undergo, 
and imparts some things to be said of him to 
posterity. 

You seem, my book, to look wistfully at Janus and 
Vertumnus, to the end that you may be set out for sale, 
neatly polished by the pumice-stone of the Sosii. You 
hate keys and seals, which are agreeable to a modest 
[volume]; you grieve that you are shown but to a few, 


202 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK I. 


and extol public places; though educated in anothej 
manner. Away with you, whither you are so solicitous 
of going down: there will be no returning for you, 
when you are once sent out. “Wretch that I am, what 
have I done? What did I want?”—you will say: when 
any one gives you ill treatment, and you know that you 
will be squeezed into small compass, as soon as the eager 
reader is satiated. But, if the augur be not prejudiced 
by resentment of your error, you shall be caressed at 
Rome [only] till your youth be passed. ” When, thumbed 
by the hands of the vulgar, you begin to grow dirty; 
either you shall in silence feed the grovelling book¬ 
worms, or you shall make your escape to Utica, or shall 
be sent bound to Ilerda. Your disregarded adviser shall 
then laugh [at you]: as he, who in a passion pushed his 
refractory ass over the precipice. For who would save 
[an ass] against his will? This too awaits you, that 
faltering dotage shall seize on you, to teach boys their 
rudiments in the skirts of the city. But when the abating 
warmth of the sun shall attract more ears, you shall 
tell them, that I was the son of a freedman, and ex¬ 
tended my wings beyond my nest; so that, as much as 
you take away from my family, you may add to my 
merit: that I was in favor with the first men in the 
state, both in war and peace; of a short stature, gray be¬ 
fore my time, calculated for sustaining heat, prone to 
passion, yet so as to be soon appeased. If any one should 
chance to inquire my age; let him know that I had com¬ 
pleted four times eleven Decembers, in the year in which 
Lollius admitted Lepidus as his colleague. 


THE EPISTLES OE HORACE 


BOOK TWO 


EPISTLE I. 

To Augustus. 

Ee honors him with the highest compliments; then 
treats copiously of poetry, its origin, character, and 
excellence. 

Since you alone support so many and such weighty 
concerns, defend Italy with your arms, adorn it by your 
virtue, reform it by your laws; I should offend, O Caesar, 
against the public interests, if I were to trespass upon 
your time with a long discourse. 

Romulus, and father Bacchus, and Castor and Pollux, 
after great achievements, received into the temples of 
the gods, while they were improving the world and hu¬ 
man nature, composing fierce dissensions, settling prop¬ 
erty, building cities, lamented that the esteem which 
they expected was not paid in proportion to their merits. 
He who crushed the dire Hydra, and subdued the re¬ 
nowned monsters by his forefated labor, found envy was 
to be tamed by death [alone]. For he burns by his very 
splendor, whose superiority is oppressive to the arts be¬ 
neath him: after his decease, he shall be had in honor. 
On you, while present among us, we confer mature hon¬ 
ors, and rear altars where your name is to be sworn by; 
confessing that nothing equal to you has hitherto risen, 
or will hereafter rise. But this your people, wise and just 

203* 



204 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE book ii. 


in one point (for preferring you to our own, you to the 
Grecian heroes), by no means estimate other things with 
like proportion and measure: and disdain and detest 
every thing, but what they see removed from earth and 
already gone by; such favorers are they of antiquity, as 
to assert that the Muses [themselves] upon Mount Alba, 
dictated the twelve tables, forbidding to transgress, 
which the decemviri ratified; the leagues of our kings 
concluded with the Gabii, or the rigid Sabines; the rec¬ 
ords of the pontifices, and the ancient volumes of the 
augurs. 

If, because the most ancient writings of the Greeks 
are also the best, Roman authors are to be weighed in 
the same scale, there is no need we should say much: 
there is nothing hard in the inside of an olive, nothing 
[hard] in the outside of a nut. We are arrived at the 
highest pitch of success [in arts]: we paint, and sing, 
and wrestle more skillfully than the anointed Greeks. 
If length of time makes poems better, as it does wine, 
I would fain know how many years will stamp a value 
upon writings. A writer who died a hundred years ago, 
is he to be reckoned among the perfect and ancient, or 
among the mean and modern authors? Let some fixed 
period exclude all dispute. He is an old and good writer 
who completes a hundred years. What! one that died a 
month or a year later, among whom is he to be ranked? 
Among the old poets, or among those whom both the 
present age and posterity will disdainfully reject? He 
*may fairly be placed among the ancients, who is younger 
either by a short mohth only, or even by a whole year. 
I take the advantage of this concession, and pull away 
by little and little, as [if they were] the hairs of a 
horse’s tail: and I take away a single one, and then 
again another single one; till, like a tumbling heap, 
[my adversary], who has recourse to annals and esti¬ 
mates excellence by the year, and admires nothing but 
what Libitina has made sacred, falls to the ground. 

Ennius the wise, the nervous, and (as our critics say) 
a second Homer, seems lightly to regard what becomes 
of his promises and Pythagorean dreams. Is not Naevius 
in people’s hands, and sticking almost fresh in theT 
memory? So sacred is every ancient poem. As often as 


EP. I. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


205 


a debate arises, whether this poet or the other be prefer¬ 
able; Pacuvius bears away the character of a learned, 
Aecius, of a lofty writer; Af ranius ’ gown is said to have 
fitted Menander; Plautus, to hurry after the pattern of 
the Sicilian Epicharmus; Caecilius, to excel in gravity, 
Terence in contrivance. These mighty Rome learns by 
heart, and these she views crowded ■in her narrow the¬ 
ater; these she esteems and accounts her poets from 
Livy the writer’s age down to our time. Sometimes the 
populace see right; sometimes they are wrong. If they 
admire and extol the ancient poets so as to prefer noth¬ 
ing before, to compare nothing with them, they err; if 
they think and allow that they express some things in an 
obsolete, most in a stiff, many in a careless manner; 
they both think sensibly, and agree with me, and de¬ 
termine with the assent of Jove himself. Not that I 
bear an ill-will against Livy’s epics, and would doom 
them to destruction, which I remember the severe Or- 
bilius taught me when a boy; but they should seem 
correct, beautiful, and very little short of perfect, this 
I wonder at: among which if by chance a bright ex¬ 
pression shines forth, and if one line or two [happen 
to be] somewhat terse and musical, this unreasonably 
carries off and sells the whole poem. I am disgusted 
that any thing should be found fault with, not because it 
is a lumpish composition or inelegant, but because it is 
modern; and that not a favorable allowance, but honor 
and rewards are demanded for the old writers. Should 
I scruple, whether or not Atta’s drama trod the saffron 
and flowers in a proper manner, almost all the fathers 
would cry out that modesty was lost; since I attempted 
to find fault with those pieces which the pathetic iEsopus 
which the skillful Roscius acted: either because they 
esteem nothing right, but what has pleased themselves; 
or because they think it disgraceful to submit to their 
juniors, and to confess, now they are old, that what 
they learned when young is deserving only to be de¬ 
stroyed. Now he who extols Numa’s Salian hymn, and 
would alone seem to understand that which, as well as 
me, he is ignorant of, does not favor and applaud the 
buried geniuses, but attacks ours, enviously hating us 
moderns and every thing of ours. Whereas if novelty 


206 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE book n, 


had been detested by the Greeks as much as by us, what 
at this time would there have been ancient? Or what 
would there have been for common use to read and 
thumb, common to every body. 

When first Greece, her wars being over, began to trifle, 
and through prosperity to glide into folly; she glowed 
with the love, one while of wrestlers, another while of 
horses; was fond of artificers in marble, or in ivory, or 
in brass; hung her looks and attention upon a picture; 
was delighted now with musicians, now with tragedians^; 
as if an infant girl, she sported under the nurse; soon 
cloyed, she abandoned what [before] she earnestly de¬ 
sired. What is there that pleases or is odious, which 
you may not think mutable? This effect had happy 
times of peace, and favorable gales [of fortune]. 

At Rome it was long pleasing and customary to be up 
early with open doors,' to expound the laws to clients; 
to lay out money cautiously upon good securities: to 
hear the elder, and to tell the younger by what means 
their fortunes might increase and pernicious luxury be 
diminished. The inconstant people have changed their 
mind, and glow with a universal ardor for learning: 
young men and grave fathers sup crowned with leaves, 
and dictate poetry. I myself, who affirm that I write 
no verses, am found more false than the Parthians: and, 
awake before the sun is risen, I call for my pen and 
papers and desk. He that is ignorant of a ship is afraid 
to work a ship; none but he who has learned, dares ad¬ 
minister [even] southern wood to the sick; physicians 
undertake what belongs to physicians; mechanics handle 
tools; but we, unlearned and learned, promiscously 
write poems. 

Yet how great advantages this error and this slight 
madness has, thus compute: the poet’s mind is not easily 
covetous; fond of verses, he studies this alone; he laughs 
at losses, flights of slaves, fires; he contrives no fraud 
against his partner, or his young ward: he lives on husks, 
and brown bread; though dastardly and unfit for war, 
he is useful at home, if you allow this, that great things 
may derive assistance from small ones. The poet fashions 
the child’s tender and lisping mouth, and turns his ear 
even at this time from obscene language; afterward 


EP. I. 


207 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 

I 

also he forms his heart with friendly precepts, the cor¬ 
rector of his rudeness, and envy, and passion; he re¬ 
cords virtuous actions, he instructs the rising age with 
approved examples, he comforts the indigent and the 
sick. Whence should the virgin, stranger to a husband, 
with the chaste boys, learn the solemn prayer, had not 
the muse given a poet? The chorus entreats the divine 
aid, and finds the gods propitious; sweet in learned 
prayer, they implore the waters of the heavens; avert 
diseases, drive off impending dangers, obtain both peace 
and years enriched with fruits. With song the gods 
above are appeased, with song the gods below. 

Our ancient swains, stout and happy with a little, 
after the grain was laid up, regaling in a festival season 
their bodies and even their minds, patient of hardship 
through the hope of their ending, with their slaves and 
faithful wife, the partners of their labors, atoned with 
a hog [the goddess] Earth, with milk Silvanus, with 
flowers and wine the genius that reminds us of our short 
life. Invented by this custom, the Fescennine licentious¬ 
ness poured forth its rustic taunts in alternate stanzas; 
and this liberty, received down through revolving years, 
sported pleasingly; till at length the bitter raillery be¬ 
gan to be turned into open rage, and threatening with 
impunity to stalk through reputable families. They, who 
suffered from its bloody tooth smarted with the pain; 
the unhurt likewise were concerned for the common con¬ 
dition: further also, a law and a penalty were enacted, 
which forbade that any one should be stigmatized in 
lampoon. Through fear of the bastinado, they were 
reduced to the necessity of changing their manner, and 
of praising and delighting. 

Captive Greeee took captive her fierce conqueror, and 
introduced her arts into rude Latium. Thus flowed off 
the rough Saturnian numbers, and delicacy expelled the 
rank venom: but for a long time there remained, and 
at this day remain traces of rusticity. For late [the 
Roman writer] applied his genius to the Grecian pages; 
and enjoying' rest after the Punic wars, began to search 
what useful matter Sophocles, and Thespis, and .Eschy- 
lus afforded: he tried, too, if he could with dignity 
translate their works; and succeeded in pleas'ng himself, 


208 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE book ii. 


being by nature [of a genius] sublime and strong: for 
he breathes a spirit tragic enough, and dares successfully; 
but fears a blot, and thinks it disgraceful in his writings. 

Comedy is believed to require the least pains, because 
it fetches its subjects from common life; but the less 
indulgence it meets with, the more labor it requires. See 
how Plautus supports the character of a lover under age, 
how that o# a covetous father, how those of a cheating 
pimp: how*Dossennus exceeds all measure in his voracious 
parasites; with how loose a sock he runs over the stage: 
for he is glad to put the money in his pocket, after this 
regardless whether his play stand or fall. 

Him, whom glory in her airy car has brought upon 
the stage, the careless spectator dispirits, the attentive 
renders more diligent: so slight, so small a matter it is, 
which overturns or raises a mind covetous of praise! 
Adieu the ludicrous business [of dramatic writing], if 
applause denied brings me back meager, bestowed [makes 
me] full of flesh and spirits. 

This too frequently drives away and deters even an 
adventurous poet? that they who are in number more, 
in worth and rank inferior, unlearned and foolish, and 
(if the equestrian order dissents) ready to fall to blows, 
in the midst of the play, call for either a bear or boxers; 
for in these the mob delight. Nay, even all the pleasures 
of our knights are now transferred from the ear to the un¬ 
certain eye, and their vain amusements. The curtains 
are kept down for four hours or more, while troops of 
horse and companies of foot flee over the stage: next 
is dragged forward the fortune of kings, with their 
hands bound behind them; chariots, litters, carriages, 
ships hurry on; captive ivory, captive Corinth, is borne 
along. Democritus, if he were on earth, would laugh; 
whether a panther a different genus confused with the 
camel, or a white elephant attracted the eye of the 
crowd. He would view the people more attentively than 
the sports themselves, as affording him more strange 
sights than the actor: and for the writers, he would 
think they told their story to a deaf ass. For what 
voices are able to overbear the din with which our 
theaters resound ? You would think the groves of 
Garganus, or the Tuscan Sea, was roaring; with so great 


EP. I. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


209 


noise are viewed the shows and contrivances, and foreign 
riches: with which the actor being daubed over, as soon 
as he appears upon the stage, each right hand encounters 
with the left. Has he said any thing yet? Nothing at 
all. What then pleases? The cloth imitating [the color 
of] violets, with the dye of Tarentum. 

And, that you may not think I enviously praise those 
kinds of writing which I decline undertaking, when 
others handle them well: that poet to me seems able to 
walk upon an extended rope, who with his fictions grieves 
my soul, enrages, soothes, fills it with false terrors, as 
an enchanter; and sets me now in Thebes, now in 
Athens. 

But of those too, who had rather trust themselves with 
a reader, than bear the disdain of an haughty spectator, 
use a little care; if you would fill with books [the library 
you have erected], an offering worthy of Apollo, and 
add an incentive to the poets, that with greater eager¬ 
ness they may apply to verdant Helicon. 

We poets, it is true (that I may hew down my own 
vineyards), often do ourselves many mischiefs, when we 
present a work to you while thoughtful or fatigued; 
when we are pained, if my friend has dared to find fault 
with one line: when, unasked, we read over again pas¬ 
sages already repeated: when we lament that our labors 
do°not appear, and our poems, spun out in a fine thread: 
when we hope the thing will come to this, that as soon 
as you are apprised we are penning verses, you will 
kindly of yourself send for us, and secure us from want, 
and oblige us to write. But yet it is worth while to 
know, who shall be the priests of your virtue signalized 
in war and at home, which is not to be trusted to an 
unworthy poet. A favorite of king Alexander the Great 
was that Choerilus, who to his uncouth and ill-formed 
verses owed the many pieces he received of Philip’s royal 
coin. But, as ink when touched leaves behind it a mark 
and a blot, so writers as it were stain shining actions 
with foul poetry. That same king, who prodigally bought 
so dear so ridiculous a poem, by an edict forbade that 
any one beside Apelles should paint him, or that any 
other than Lysippus should mold brass for the likeness 
of the valiant Alexander. But should you call that 


210 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE book ii. 


faculty of his, so delicate in discerning other arts, to 
[judge of] books and of these gifts of the muses, you 
would swear he had been born in the gross air of the 
Boeotians. Yet neither do Virgil and Varius, your beloved 
poets, disgrace your judgment of them, and the presents 
which they have received with great honor to the donor; 
nor do the features of illustrious men appear more lively 
when expressed by statues of brass, than their manners 
and minds expressed by the works of a poet. Nor would 
I rather compose such tracts as these creeping on the 
ground, than record deeds of arms, and the situations of 
countries, and rivers, and forts reared upon mountains, 
and barbarous kingdoms, and wars brought to a con¬ 
clusion through the whole world under your auspices, 
and the barriers that confine Janus the guardian of 
peace, and Rome dreaded by the Parthians under your 
government, if I were but able to do as much as I 
could wish. But neither does your majesty admit of 
humble poetry, nor dares my modesty attempt a sub¬ 
ject which my strength is unable to support. Yet offi¬ 
ciousness foolishly disgusts the person whom it loves; 
especially when it recommends itself by numbers, and 
the art [of writing.] For one learns sooner, and more 
willingly remembers, that which a man derides, than 
that which he approves and venerates. I value not the 
zeal that gives me uneasiness; nor do I wish to be set out 
any where in wax, with a face formed for the worse, 
nor to be celebrated in ill-composed verses; lest I blush, 
when presented with the gross gift; and, exposed in an 
open box along with my author, be conveyed into the 
street that sells frankincense, and spices, and pepper, 
and whatever is wrapped up in impertinent writings. 

EPISTLE II. 

To Julius Florus. 

In apologizing for not having written to him, he shows 
that the well-ordering of life is of more importance 
than the composition of verses. 

O Florus, faithful friend to the good and illustrious 
Nero, if by chance any one should offer to sell you a 


EP. II. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


211 


boy born at Tiber and Gabii, and should treat with you 
in this manner; “This [boy who is] both good-natured 
and well-favored from head to foot, shall become and 
be yours for eight thousand sesterces; a domestic slave, 
ready in his attendance at his master’s nod; initiated 
in the Greek language, of a capacity for any art; you 
may shape out any thing with [such] moist clay; be¬ 
sides, he will sing in an artless manner, but yet entertain¬ 
ing to one drinking. Lavish promises lessen credit, when 
any one cries up extravagantly the wares he has for sale, 
which he wants to put off. No emergency obliges me [to 
dispose of him]: though poor, I am in nobody’s debt. 
None of the chapmen would do this for you; nor should 
every body readily receive the same favor from me. Once, 
[in deed,] he [loitered on an errand]; and (as it hap¬ 
pens) absconded, being afraid of the lash that hangs 
in the staircase. Give me your money, if this runaway 
trick, which I have expected, does not offend you.” In 
my opinion, the man may take his price, and be secure 
from any punishment: you wittingly purchased a good- 
for-nothing boy: the condition of the contract was told 
you. Nevertheless you prosecute this man, and detain 
him in an unjust suit. 

I told you, at your setting out, that I was indolent: 
I told you I was almost incapable of such offices: that 
you might not chide me in angry mood, because no 
letter [from me] came to hand. What then have I 
profited, if you nevertheless arraign the conditions that 
make for me? On the same score too you complain, 
that, being worse than my word, I do not send you the 
verses you expected. 

A soldier of Lucullus, [having run through] a great 
many hardships, was robbed of his collected stock to a 
penny, as he lay snoring in the night quite fatigued: 
after this, like a ravenous wolf, equally exasperated at 
himself and the enemy, eager, with his hungry fangs, 
he beat off a royal guard from a post (as they report) 
very strongly fortified, and well supplied with stores. 
Famous on account of this exploit, he is adorned with 
honorable rewards, and receives twenty thousand sesterces 
into the bargain. It happened about this time that his 
officer being inclined to batter down a certain fort, 


212 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE book ii. 


began to encourage the same man, with words that might 
even have given courage to a coward: 1 * Go, my brave 
fellow, whither your valor calls you: go with prosperous 
step, certain to receive ample rewards of your merit. 
Why do you hesitate? Upon this, he arch, though a 
rustic: “He who has lost his purse, will go whither you 
wish, ” says he. 

It was my lot to have Rome for my nurse, and to 
be instructed [from the Iliad] how much the exasperated 
Achilles prejudiced the Greeks. Good Athens gave me 
some additional learning: that is to say, to be able to 
distinguish a right line from a curve, and seek after 
truth in the groves of Academus. But the troublesome 
times removed me from that pleasant spot; and the tide 
of a civil war carried me away, unexperienced as I was, 
into arms, [into arms] not likely to be a match for the 
sinews of Augustus Caesar. Whence, as soon as [the 
battle of] Philippi dismissed me in an abject condition, 
with my wings clipped, and destitute both of house and 
land, daring poverty urged me on to the composition of 
verses: but now, having more than is wanted, what 
medicines would be efficacious enough to cure my mad¬ 
ness, if I did not think it better to rest than to write 
verses. 

The advancing years rob us of every thing: they have 
taken away my mirth, my gallantry, my revelings, and 
play: they are now proceeding to force poetry from me. 
What would you have me do? 

In short, all persons do not love and admire the same 
thing. Ye delight in the ode: one man is pleased with 
iambics; another with satires written in the manner of 
Bion, and virulent wit. Three guests scarcely can be 
found to agree, craving very different dishes with vari¬ 
ous palate. What shall I give? What shall I not give? 
You forbid, what another demands: what you desire, 
that truly is sour and disgustful to the [other] two. 

Beside other [difficulties], do you think it practicable 
for me to write poems at Rome, amid so many solicitudes 
and so many fatigues? One calls me as his security, 
another to hear his works, all business else apart; one 
lives on the mount of Quirinus, the other in the ex¬ 
tremity of the Aventine; both must be waited on. The 


EP. II. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


213 


distances between them, you see, are charmingly com¬ 
modious. ‘ ‘ But the streets are clear so that there can 
be no obstacle to the thoughtful. ’ ’—A builder in heat 
hurries along with his mules and porters: the crane 
whirls aloft at one time a stone, at another a great 
piece of timber: the dismal funerals dispute the way 
with the unwieldy carriages: here runs a mad dog, there 
rushes a sow begrimed with mire. Go now, and meditate 
with yourself your harmonious verses. All the whole 
choir of poets love the grove, and avoid cities, due 
votaries to Bacchus delighting in repose and shade. 
Would you have me, amid so great noise both by night 
and day, [attempt] to sing, and trace the difficult foot¬ 
steps of the poets? A genius who has chosen quiet 
Athens for his residence, and has devoted seven years 
to study, and has grown old in books and study, fre¬ 
quently walks forth more dumb than a statue, and 
shakes the people’s side with laughter: here, in the 
midst of the billows and tempests of the city, can I be 
thought capable of connecting words likely to wake the 
sound of the lyre? 

At Rome there was a rhetorician, brother to a lawyer; 
[so fond of each other were they,] that they would 
hear nothing but the mere praises of each other: inso¬ 
much, that the latter appeared a Gracchus to the 
former, the former a Mucius to the latter. Why should 
this frenzy affect the obstreperous poets in a less de¬ 
gree? I write odes, another elegies: a work wonder¬ 
ful to behold, and burnished by the nine muses! Ob¬ 
serve first, with what a fastidious air, with what im¬ 
portance we survey the temple [of Apollo] vacant for 
the Roman poets. In the next place you may follow 
(if you are at leisure) and hear what each produces, 
and wherefore each weaves for himself the crown. Like 
Samnite gladiators in slow duel, till candle-light, we 
are beaten and waste out the enemy with equal blows: 
I came off AIcebus, in his suffrage; he is mine, who? 
Why who but Callimachus? Or, if he seems to make 
a greater demand, he becomes Mimnermus, and grows in 
fame by the chosen appellation. Much do I endure in 
order to pacify this passionate race of poets, when I 
am writing; and submissive court the applause of the 


214 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


people; [but,] having finished my studies and recov¬ 
ered my senses, I the same man can now boldly stop 
my open ears against reciters. 

Those who make bad verses are laughed at: but they 
are pleased in writing, and reverence themselves; and 
if you are silent, they, happy, fall to praising of their 
own accord whatever they have written. But he who 
desires to execute a genuine poem, will with his papers 
assume the spirit of an honest critic: whatever words 
shall have but little clearness and elegance, or shall be 
with weight and held unworthy of estimation, he will 
dare to displace: though they may recede with reluctance, 
and still remain in the sanctuary of Vesta: those that 
have been long hidden from the people he kindly will 
drag forth, and bring to light those expressive denomina¬ 
tions of things that were used by the Catos and Cethegi 
of ancient times, though now deformed dust and neglected 
age presses upon them: he will adopt new words, which 
use, the parent [of language], shall produce: forcible 
and perspicuous, and bearing the utmost similitude to 
a limpid stream, he will pour out his treasures, and 
enrich Latium with a comprehensive language. The 
luxuriant he will lop, the too harsh he will soften with a 
sensible cultivation: those void of expression he will 
discard: he will exhibit the appearance of one at play; 
and will be [in his invention] on the rack, like [a 
dancer on the stage], who one while affects the motions 
of a satyr, at another of a clumsy cyclops. 

I had rather be esteemed a foolish and dull writer, 
while my faults please myself, or at least escape my 
notice, than be wise and smart for it. There lived at 
Argos a man of no mean rank, who imagined that he 
was hearing some admirable tragedians, a joyful sitter 
and applauder in an empty theater: who [nevertheless] 
could support the other duties of life in a just manner; 
a truly honest neighbor, an amiable host, kind toward 
his wife, one who could pardon his slaves, nor would 
rave at the breaking of a bottle-seal: one who [had 
sense enough] to avoid a precipice, or an open well. 
This man, being cured at the expense and by the care 
of his relations, when he had expelled by the means of 
pure hellebore the disorder and melancholy humor, and 


EP. II. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


215 


returned to himself; “By Pollus, my friends (said he), 
you have destroyed, not saved me; from whom my 
pleasure is thus taken away, and a most agreeable de¬ 
lusion of mind removed by force. ” 

In a word, it is of the first consequence to be wise 
in the rejection of trifles, and leave childish play to 
boys for whom it is in season, and not to scan words 
to be set to music for the Roman harps, but [rather] to 
be perfectly an adept in the numbers and proportions 
of real life. Thus therefore I commune with myself, 
and ponder these things in silence: “If no quantity of 
water would put an end to your thirst, you would tell 
it to your physicians. And is there none to whom you 
dare confess, that the more you get the more you crave? 
If you had a wound which was not relieved by a plant 
or root prescribed to you, you would refuse being doc¬ 
tored with a root or plant that did no good. You have 
heard that vicious folly left the man, on whom the gods 
conferred wealth; and though you are nothing wiser, 
since you become richer, will you nevertheless use the 
same monitors as before? But could riches make you 
wise, could they make you less covetous and mean-spirited, 
you well might blush, if there lived on earth one more 
avaricious than yourself.’' 

If that be any man’s property which he has bought 
by the pound and penny, [and] there be some things to 
which (if you give credit to the lawyers) possession gives 
a claim, [then] the field that feeds you is your own; 
and Orbius’ steward, when he harrows the corn which 
is soon to give you flour, finds you are [in effect] the 
proper master. You give your money; you receive 
grapes, pullets, eggs, a hogshead of strong wine: cer¬ 
tainly in this manner you by little and little purchase 
that farm, for which perhaps the owner paid three 
hundred thousand sesterces, or more. What does it 
signify, whether you live on what was paid for the 
other day, or a long while ago? He who purchased 
the Aricinian and Veientine fields some time since, sups 
on bought vegetables, however he may think otherwise; 
boils his pot with bought wood at the approach of the 
chill evening. But he calls all that his own, as far as 
where the planted poplar prevents quarrels among neigh- 


216 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


BOOK II. 


bors by a determinate limitation: as if any thing were 
a man’s property, which in a moment of the fleeting 
hour, now by solicitations, now by sale, now by violence, 
and now by the supreme lot [of all men], may change 
masters and come into another’s jurisdiction. Thus 
since the perpetual possession is given to none, and one 
man’s heir urges on another’s, as wave impels wave, of 
what importance are houses, or granaries; or what the 
Lucanian pastures joined to the Calabrian; if Hades, 
inexorable to gold, mows down the great together with 
the small? 

Gems, marble, ivory, Tuscan statues, pictures, silver- 
plate, robes dyed with Getulian purple, there are who 
can not acquire; and there are others, who are not 
solicitous of acquiring. Of two brothers, why one pre¬ 
fers lounging, play, and perfume, to Herod’s rich palm- 
tree groves; why the other, rich and uneasy, from the 
rising of the light toAhe evening shade, subdues his 
woodland with fire and steel: our attendant genius 
knows, who governs the planet of our nativity, the 
divinity [that presides] over human nature, who dies 
with each individual, of various complexion, white and 
black. 

I will use, and take out from my moderate stock, as 
much as my exigence demands: nor will I be under 
any apprehensions what opinion my heir shall hold con¬ 
cerning me, when he shall find [I have left him] no more 
than I had given me. And yet I, the same man, shall 
be inclined to know how far an open and cheerful person 
differs from a debauchee, and how greatly the economist 
differs from the miser. For there is some distinction 
whether you throw away your money in a prodigal man¬ 
ner, or make an entertainment without grudging, nor 
toil to accumulate more; or rather, as formerly in 
Minerva’s holidays, when a school-boy, enjoys by starts 
the short and pleasant vacation. 

Let sordid poverty be far away. I, whether borne 
in a large or small vessel, let me be borne uniform and 
the same. I am not wafted with swelling sail before 
the north wind blowing fair: yet I do not bear my 
course of life against the adverse south. In force, 


EP. II. 


THE EPISTLES OF HORACE 


217 


genius, figure, virtue, station, estate, the last of the first- 
rate, [yet] still before those of the last. 

You are not covetous, [you say]:—go to.—What then? 
Have the rest of your vicQg fled from you, together with 
this? Is your breast free from vain ambition? Is it 

free from the fear of death and from anger? Can you 

laugh at dreams, magic terrors, wonders, witches, noc¬ 
turnal goblins, and Thessalian prodigies? Do you num¬ 
ber your birth-days with a grateful mind? Are you 

forgiving to your friends? Do you grow milder and 

better as old age approaches? What profits you only 
one thorn eradicated out of many? If you do not know 
how to live in a right manner, make way for those 
that do. You have played enough, eaten and drunk 
enough, it is time for you to walk off: lest having 
tippled too plentifully, that age which plays the wanton 
with more propriety, should ridicule and drive you [off 
the stage]. 




THE ART OF POETRY 


To the Pisos. 

If a painter should wish to unite a horse’s neck to 
a human head, and spread a variety of plumage over 
limbs [of different animals] taken from every part [of 
nature], so that what is a beautiful woman in the upper 
part terminates unsightly in an ugly fish below; could 
you, my friends, refrain from laughter, were you ad¬ 
mitted to such a sight? Believe, ye Pisos, the book 
will be perfectly like such a picture, the ideas of 
which, like a sick man’s dreams, are all vain and ficti¬ 
tious: so that neither head nor foot can correspond to 
any one form. * 1 Poets and painters [you will say] have 
ever had equal authority for attempting any thing.” 
We are conscious of this, and this privilege we demand 
and allow in turn: but not to such a degree, that the 
tame should associate with the savage; nor that serpents 
should be coupled with birds, lambs with tigers. 

In pompous introductions, and such as promise a great 
deal, it generally happens that one or two verses of 
purple patch-work, that may make a great show, are 
tagged on; as when the grove and the altar of Diana 
and the meandering of a current hastening through 
pleasant fields, or the river Rhine, or the rainbow is 
described. But here there was no room for these [fine 
things]: perhaps, too, you know how to draw a cypress: 
but what is that to the purpose, if he, who is painted 
for the given price, is [to be represented as] swimming 
hopeless out of a shipwreck? A large vase at first was 

218 



THE ART OF POETRY 


219 


designed: why, as the wheel revolves, turns out a little 
pitcher? In a word, be your subject what it will, let 
it be merely simple and uniform. 

The great majority of us poets, father, and youths 
worthy such a father, are misled by the appearance of 
right. I labor to be concise, I become obscure: nerves 
and spirit fail him, that aims at the easy: one, that 
pretends to be sublime, proves bombastical: he who is 
too cautious and fearful of the storm, crawls along the 
ground: he who wants to vary his subject in a marvelous 
manner, paints the dolphin in the woods, the boar in 
the sea. The avoiding of an error leads to a fault, if 
it lack skill. 

A statuary about the iEmilian school shall of himself, 
with singular skill, both express the nails, and imitate in 
brass the flexible hair; unhappy yet in the main, because 
he knows not how to finish a complete piece. I would 
no more choose to be such a one as this, had I a mind 
to compose any thing, than to live with a distorted nose, 
[though] remarkable for black eyes and jetty hair. 

Ye who write, m,ake choice of a subject suitable to 
your abilities; and revolve in your thoughts a con¬ 
siderable time what your strength declines, and what 
it is able to support. Neither elegance of style, nor a 
perspicuous disposition, shall desert the man, by whom 
the subject matter is chosen judiciously. 

This, or I am mistaken, will constitute the merit and 
beauty of arrangement, that the poet just now say what 
ought just now to be said, put off most of his thoughts, 
and waive them for the present. 

In the choice of his words, too, the author of the pro¬ 
jected poem must be delicate and cautious, he must 
embrace one and reject another: you will express your¬ 
self eminently well, if a dexterous combination should 
give an air of novelty to a well-known word. If it 
happen to be necessary to explain some abstruse subjects 
by new invented terms; it will follow that you must 
frame words never heard of by the old-fashioned Cethegi: 
and the license will be granted, if modestly used: and 
new and lately-formed words will have authority, if 
they descend from a Greek source, with a slight devia¬ 
tion. But why should the Romans grant to Plutus and 


220 


THE ART OF POETRY 


Csecilius a privilege denied to Virgil and Varius? Why 
should I be envied, if I have it in my power to acquire 
a few words, when the language of Cato and hmmus 
has enriched our native tongue, and produced new names 
of things'? It has been, and ever will be, allowable to 
coin a word marked with the stamp in present request. 
As leaves in the woods are changed with the fleeting 
years: the earliest fall off first: in this manner words 
perish with old age, and those lately invented flourish 
and thrive, like men in the time of youth. We, and 
our works, are doomed to death: whether Neptune, ad¬ 
mitted into the continent, defends our fleet from the 
north winds, a kingly work; or the lake, for a long 
time unfertile and fit for oars, now maintains its neigh¬ 
boring cities and feels the heavy plow; or the river, 
taught to run in a more convenient channel, has changed 
its. course which was so destructive to the fruits. Mortal 
works must perish: much less can the honor and elegance 
of language be long-lived. Many words shall revive, 
which now have fallen off; and many which are now 
in esteem shall fall off, if it be the will of custom, in 
whose power is the decision and right and standard ox 

language. , . 

Homer has instructed us in what measure the achieve¬ 
ments of kings, and chiefs, and direful war might be 


wnticu. . _ , 

Plaintive strains originally were appropriated to the 
unequal numbers [of the elegiac]: afterward [love and] 
successful desires were included. Yet what author first 
published humble elegies, the critics dispute, and the 
controversy still waits the determination of a judge. 

Rage armed Archilochus with the iambic of his own 
invention. The sock and the majestic buskin assumed 
this measure as adapted for dialogue, and to silence the 
noise of the populace, and calculated for action. 

To celebrate gods, and the sons of gods, and the vic¬ 
torious wrestler, and the steed foremost in the race, 
and the inclination of youths, and the free joys of wine, 
the muse has allotted to the lyre. 

If I am incapable and unskillful to observe the dis¬ 
tinction described, and the complexions of works [of 
genius], why am I accosted by the name of ‘'Poet?” 


THE ART OF POETRY 


221 


Why, out of false modesty, do I prefer being ignorant 
to being learned? 

A comic subject will not be handled in tragic verse: 
in like manner the banquet of Thyestes will not bear 
to be held in familiar verses, and such as almost suit 
the sock. Let each peculiar species [of writing] fill 
with decorum its proper place. Nevertheless sometimes 
even comedy exalts her voice, and passionate Chremes 
rails in a tumid strain: and a tragic writer generally 
expresses grief in a prosaic style. Telephus and Peleus, 
when they are both in poverty and exile, throw aside their 
rants and gigantic expressions if they have a mind to 
move the heart of the spectator with their complaint. 

It is not enough that poems be beautiful; let them 
be tender and affecting, and bear away the soul of the 
auditor whithersoever they please. As the human coun¬ 
tenance smiles on those that smile, so does it sympathize 
with those that weep. If you would have me weep you 
must first express the passion of grief yourself; then, 
Telephus or Peleus, your misfortunes hurt me: if you 
pronounce the parts assigned you ill, I shall either fall 
asleep or laugh. 

Pathetic accents suit a melancholy countenance; words 
full of menace, an angry one; wanton expressions, a 
sportive look; and serious matter, an austere one. For 
nature forms us first within to every modification of 
circumstances; she delights or impels us to anger, or 
depresses us to the earth and afflicts us with heavy 
sorrow: then expresses those emotions of the mind by 
the tongue, its interpreter. If the words be discordant 
to the station of the speaker, the Roman knights and 
plebeians will raise an immoderate laugh. It will make 
a wide difference, whether it be Davus that speaks, or 
a hero; a man well-stricken in years, or a hot young 
fellow in his bloom; and a matron of distinction, or an 
officious nurse; a roaming merchant, or the cultivator 
of a verdant little farm; a Colchian, or an Assyrian; one 
educated at Thebes, or one at Argos. 

You, that write, either follow tradition, or invent such 
fables as are congruous to themselves. If as poet you 
have to represent the renowned Achilles; let him be 
indefatigable, wrathful, inexorable, courageous, let him 


222 


THE ART OF POETRY 


deny that laws were made for him, let him arrogate 
every thing to force of arms. Let Medea be fierce and 
untractable, Ino an object of pity, Ixion perfidious, Io 
wandering, Orestes in distress. 

If you offer to the stage any thing unattempted, and 
venture to form a new character; let it be preserved 
to the last such as it set out at the beginning, and 
be consistent with itself. It is difficult to write with 
propriety on subjects to which all writers have a com¬ 
mon claim; and you with more prudence will reduce 
the Iliad into acts, than if you first introduce argu¬ 
ments unknown and never treated of before. A public 
story will become your own property, if you do not 
dwell upon the whole circle of events, which is paltry 
and open to every one; nor must you be so faithful a 
translator, as to take the pains of rendering [the 
original] word for word; nor by imitating throw your¬ 
self into straits, whence either shame or the rules of your 
work may forbid you to retreat. 

Nor must you make such an exordium, as the Cyclic 
writer of old: “I will sing the fate of Priam, and 
the noble war.” What will this boaster produce worthy 
of all this gaping? The mountains are in labor, a 
ridiculous mouse will be brought forth. How much 
more to the purpose he, who attempts nothing im¬ 
properly? “Sing for me, my muse, the man who, after 
the time of the destruction of Troy, surveyed the man¬ 
ners and cities of many men.” He meditates not [to 
produce] smoke from a flash, but out of smoke to elicit 
fire, that he may thence bring forth his instances of 
the marvelous with beauty, [such as] • Antiphates, 
Scylla, the Cyclops, and Charybdis. Nor does he date 
Diomede’s return from Meleager’s death, nor trace the 
rise of the Trojan war from [Leda’s] eggs: he always 
hastens on to the event; and hurries away his reader in 
the midst of interesting circumstances, no otherwise than 
as if they were [already] known; and what he despairs 
of, as to receiving a polish from his touch, he omits; 
and in such a manner forms his fictions, so intermingles 
the false with the true, that the middle is not incon¬ 
sistent with the beginning, nor the end with the middle. 

Do you attend to what I, and the public in my 


THE ART OF POETRY 


223 


opinion, expect from you [as a dramatic writer]. If 
you are desirious of an applauding spectator, who will 
wait for [the falling of] the curtain, and till the 
chorus calls out ‘ ‘ your plaudits; ’ ’ the manners of every 
age must be marked by you, and a proper decorum as¬ 
signed to men’s varying dispositions and years. The 
boy, who is just able to pronounce his words, and 
prints the ground with a firm tread, delights to play 
with his fellows, and contracts and lays aside anger 
without reason, and is subject to change every hour. 
The beardless youth, his guardian being at length dis¬ 
charged, joys in horses, and dogs, and the verdure of 
the sunny Campus Martius; pliable as wax to the bent 
of vice, rough to advisers, a slow provider of useful 
things, prodigal of his money, high-spirited, and amor¬ 
ous, and hasty in deserting the objects of his passion. 
[After this,] our inclinations being changed, the age and 
spirit of manhood seeks after wealth, and [high] con¬ 
nections, is subservient to points of honor; and is cau¬ 
tious of committing any action, which he would subse¬ 
quently be industrious to correct. Many inconveniences 
encompass a man in years; either because he seeks 
[eagerly] for gain, and abstains from what he has 
gotten, and is afraid to make use of it; or because he 
transacts every thing in a timorous and dispassionate 
manner, dilatory, slow in hope, remiss, and greedy of 
futurity. Peevish, querulous, a panegryrist of former 
times when he was a boy, a chastiser and censurer of 
his juniors. Our advancing years bring many advan¬ 
tages along with them. Many our declining ones take 
away. That the parts [therefore] belonging to age may 
not be given to youth, and those of a man to a boy, 
we must dwell upon those qualities which are joined 
and adapted to each person’s age. 

An action is either represented on the stage, or being 
done elsewhere is there related. The things which enter 
by the ear affect the mind more languidly, than such 
as are submitted to the faithful eyes, and what a 
spectator presents to himself. You must not, however, 
bring upon the stage things fit only to be acted behind 
the scenes: and you must take away from view many 
actions, which elegant description may soon after de- 


224 


THE ART OF POETRY 


liver in presence [of the spectators]. Let not Medea 
murder her sons before the people ; nor the execrable 
Atreus openly dress human entrails: nor let Progue be 
metamorphosed into a bird. Cadmus into a serpent. 
Whatever you show to me in this manner, not able to 
give credit to, I detest. 

Let a play which would be inquired after, and though 
seen, represented anew, be neither shorter nor longer 
than the fifth act. Neither let a god interfere, unless 
a difficulty worthy a god’s unraveling should happen; 
nor let a fourth person be officious to speak. 

Let the chorus sustain the part and manly character 
of an actor: nor let them sing any thing between the 
acts which is not conducive to, and fitly coherent with, 
the main design. Let them both patronize the good, 
and give them friendly advice, and regulate the passion¬ 
ate, and love to appease those who swell [with rage]: 
let them praise the repast of a short meal, the salutary 
effects of justice, laws, and peace with her .open gates; 
let them conceal what is told to them in confidence, 
and supplicate and implore the gods that prosperity 
may return to the wretched, and abandon the haughty. 
The flute, (not as now, begirt with brass and emulous 
of the trumpet, but) slender and of simple form, with 
few stops, was of service to accompany and assist the 
chorus, and with its tone was sufficient to fill the rows 
that were not as yet too crowded, where an audience, 
easily numbered, as being small and sober, chaste and 
modest, met together. But when the victorious Romans 
began to extend their territories, and an ampler wall 
encompassed the city, and their genius was indulged 
on festivals by drinking wine in the day-time without 
censure; a greater freedom arose both to the numbers 
[of poetry], and the measure [of music]. For what 
taste could an unlettered clown and one just dismissed 
from labors have, when in company with the polite; the 
base, with the man of honor? Thus the musician added 
new movements and a luxuriance to the ancient art, and 
strutting backward and forward, drew a length of train 
over the stage; thus likewise new notes were added to 
the severity of the lyre, and precipitate eloquence pro¬ 
duced an unusual language [in the theater]: and the 


THE ART OF POETRY 


225 


sentiments [of the chorus, then] expert in teaching use¬ 
ful things and prescient of futurity, differ hardly from 
the oracular Delphi. 

The poet, who first tried his skill in tragic verse for 
the paltry [prize of a] goat, soon after exposed to view 
wild satyrs naked, and attempted raillery with severity, 
still preserving the gravity [of tragedy]: because the 
spectator on festivals, when heated with wine and dis¬ 
orderly, was to be amused with captivating shows and 
agreeable novelty. But it will be expedient so to 
recommend the bantering, so the rallying satyrs, so to 
turn earnest into jest; that none who shall be exhibited 
as a god, none who is introduced as a hero lately con¬ 
spicuous in regal purple and gold, may deviate into the 
low style of obscure, mechanical shops; or, [on the con¬ 
trary,] while he avoids the ground, affect cloudy mist 
and empty jargon. Tragedy disdaining to prate forth 
trivial verses, like a matron commanded to dance on the 
festival days, will assume an air of modesty, even in 
the midst of wanton satyrs. As a writer of satire, ye 
Pisos, I shall never be fond of unornamented and 
reigning terms: nor shall I labor to differ so widely 
from the complexion of tragedy, as to make no dis¬ 
tinction, whether Davus be the speaker. And the bold 
Pythias, who gained a talent by gulling Simo; or Silenus, 
the guardian and'attendant of his pupil-god [Bacchus], 
I would so execute a fiction taken from a well-known 
story, that any body might entertain hopes of doing the 
same thing; but, on trial, should sweat and labor in 
vain. Such power has a just arrangement and con¬ 
nection of the parts: such grace may be added to sub¬ 
jects merely common. In my judgment the Fauns, that 
are brought out of the woods, should not be too game¬ 
some with their tender strains, as if they were educated 
in the city, and almost at the bar; nor, on the other 
hand, should blunder out their obscene and scandalous 
speeches. For [at such stuff] all are offended, who 
have a horse, a father, or an estate: nor will they re¬ 
ceive with approbation, nor give the laurel crown, as 
the purchasers of parched peas and nuts are delighted 
with. 

A long syllable put after a short one is termed an 


226 


THE ART OF POETRY 


iambus, a lively measure, whence also it commanded the 
name of trimeters to be added to iambics, though it 
yielded six beats of time, being similar to itself from 
first to last. Not long ago, that it might come some¬ 
what slower and with more majesty to the ear, it 
obligingly and contentedly admitted into its paternal 
heritage the steadfast spondees; agreeing however, by 
social league, that it was not to depart from the 
second and fourth place. But this [kind of measure] 
rarely makes its appearance in the notable trimeters of 
Accius, and brands the verse of Ennius brought upon 
the stage with a clumsy weight of spondees, with the 
imputation of being too precipitate and careless, or 
disgracefully accuses him of ignorance in his art. 

It is not every judge that discerns inharmonious verses, 
and an undeserved indulgence is [in this case] granted 
to the Roman poets. But shall I on this account run 
riot and write licentiously? Or should not I rather sup¬ 
pose, that all the world are to see my faults; secure, 
and cautious [never to err] but with hope of being 
pardoned? Though, perhaps, I have merited no praise, 
I have escaped censure. 

Ye [who are desirous to excel,] turn over the Grecian 
models by night, turn them by day. But our ancestors 
commended both the numbers of Plautus, and his strokes 
of pleasantry; too tamely, I will not say foolishly, ad¬ 
miring each of them; if you and I but know how to 
distinguish a coarse joke from a smart repartee, and 
understand the proper cadence, by [using] our fingers 
and ears. 

Thespis is said to have invented a new kind of tragedy, 
and to have carried his pieces about in carts, which 
[certain strollers], who had their faces besmeared with 
lees of wine, sang and acted. After him iEschylus, 
the inventor of the vizard mask and decent robe, laid 
the stage over with boards of a tolerable size, and taught 
to speak in lofty tone, and strut in the buskin. To 
these succeeded the old comedy, not without consider¬ 
able praise: but its personal freedom degenerated into 
excess and violence, worthy to be regulated by law; a 
law was made accordingly, and the chorus, the right 


THE ART OF POETRY 


227 


of abusing being taken away, disgracefully became 
silent. 

Our poets have left no species [of the art] unat¬ 
tempted ; nor have those of them merited the least 
honor, who dared to forsake the footsteps of the Greeks, 
and celebrate domestic facts; whether they have in¬ 
structed us in tragedy or comedy. Nor would Italy be 
raised higher by valor and feats of arms, than by its 
language, did not the fatigue and tediousness of using 
the file disgust every one of our poets. Do you, the 
descendants of Pompilius, reject that poem, which many 
days and many a blot have not ten times subdued to 
the most perfect accuracy. Because Democritus believes 
that genius is more successful than wretched art, and 
excludes from Helicon all poets who are in their senses, 
a great number do not care to part with their nails or 
beard, frequent places of solitude, shun the baths. For 
he will acquire, [he thinks], the esteem and title of a 
poet, if he neither submits his head, which is not to be 
cured by even three Anticyras, to Licinius the barber. 
What an unlucky fellow am I, who am purged for the 
bile in spring-time! Else nobody would compose better 
poems; but the purchase is not worth the expense. There¬ 
fore I will serve instead of a whetstone, which though 
not able of itself to cut, can make steel sharp: so I, 
who can write no poetry myself, will teach the duty and 
business [of an author]; whence he may be stocked with 
rich materials; what nourishes and forms the poet; what 
gives grace, what not; what is the tendency of excel¬ 
lence, what that of error. 

To have good sense, is the first principle and fountain 
of writing well. The Socratic papers will direct you in 
the choice of your subjects; and words will spontane¬ 
ously accompany the subject, when it is well conceived. 
He who has learned what he owes to his country, and 
what to his friends; with what affection a parent, a 
brother, and a stranger, are to be loved; what is the 
duty of a senator, what of a judge; what the duties of 
a general sent out to war; he, [I say,] certainly knows 
how to give suitable attributes to every character. I 
should direct the learned imitator to have a regaid 


228 


THE ART OF POETRY 


to the mode of nature and manners, and thence draw 
his expressions to the life. Sometimes a play, that is 
showy with common-places, and where the manners are 
well marked, though of no elegance, without force or 
art, gives the people much higher delight and more 
effectually commands their attention, than verse void of 
matter, and tuneful trifles. 

To the Greeks, covetous of nothing but praise, the 
muse gave genius; to the Greeks the power of express¬ 
ing themselves in round periods. The Roman youth 
learn by long computation to subdivide a pound into 
an hundred parts. Let the son of Albinus tell me, if 
from five ounces one be subtracted, what remains? He 
would have said the third of a pound.—Bravely done! 
you will be able to take care of your own affairs. An 
ounce is added: what will that be? Half a pound. When 
this sordid rust and hankering after wealth has once 
tainted their minds, can we expect that such verses 
should be made as are worthy of being anointed with 
the oil of cedar, and kept in the well-polished cypress? 

Poets wish either to profit or to delight; or to de¬ 
liver at once both the. pleasures and the necessaries of 
life. Whatever precepts you give, be concise; that 
docile minds may soon comprehend what is said, and 
faithfully retain it. All superfluous instructions flow 
from the too full memory. Let whatever is imagined for 
the sake of entertainment, have as much likeness to 
truth as possible; let not your play demand belief for 
whatever [absurdities] it is inclinable [to exhibit]: nor 
take out of a witch’s belly a living child that she had 
dined upon. The tribes of the seniors rail against every 
thing that is void of edification: the exalted knights 
disregard poems which are austere. He who joins the 
instructive with the agreeable, carries off every vote, by 
delighting and at the same time admonishing the reader. 
This book gains money for the Sosii; this crosses the 
sea, and continues to its renowned author a lasting 
duration. 

Yet there are faults, which we should be ready to 
pardon: for neither does the string [always] form the 
sound which the hand and conception [of the performer] 
intends, but very often returns a sharp note when he 


THE ART OF POETRY 


229 

demands a flat; nor will the bow always hit whatever 
mark it threatens. But when there is a great majority 
of beauties in a poem, I will not be offended with a 
few blemishes, which either inattention has dropped, or 
human nature has not sufficiently provided against. 
What therefore [is to be determined in this matter] ? 
As a transcriber, if he still commits the same fault 
though he has been reproved, is without excuse; and the 
harper who always blunders on the same string, is sure 
to be laughed at; so he who is excessively deficient 
becomes another Choerilus; whom, when I find him 
tolerable in two or three places, I wonder at with 
laughter; and at the same time am I grieved whenever 
honest Homer grows drowsy? But it is allowable, that 
sleep should steal upon [the progress of] a long work. 

As is painting, so is poetry: some pieces will strike 
you more if you stand near, and some, if you are at 
a greater distance: one loves the dark; another, which 
is not afraid of the critic’s subtle judgment, chooses 
to be seen in the light; the one has pleased once, the 
other will give pleasure if ten times repeated. 

O ye elder of the youths, though you are framed to 
a right judgment by your father’s instructions, and 
are wise in yourself, yet take this truth along with you, 
[and] remember it; that in certain things a medium 
and tolerable degree of eminence may be admitted: a 
counselor and pleader at the bar of the middle rate is 
far removed from the merit of eloquent Messala, nor 
has so much knowledge of the law as Casselius Aulus, 
but yet he is in request; [but] a mediocrity in poets 
neither gods, nor men, nor [even] the booksellers’ shops 
have endured. As at an agreeable entertainment dis¬ 
cordant music, and muddy perfume, and poppies mixed 
with Sardinian honey give offense, because the supper 
might have passed without them; so poetry, created 
and invented for the' delight of our souls, if it comes 
short ever so little of the summit, sinks to the bottom. 

He who does not understand the game, abstains from 
the weapons of the Campus Martius: and the unskillful 
in the tennis-ball, the quoit, and the troques keeps him¬ 
self quiet; lest the crowded ring should raise a laugh at 
his expense: notwithstanding this, he who knows nothing 


230 


THE ART OF POETRY 


of verses presumes to compose. Why not! He is free¬ 
born, and of a good family; above all, he is registered 
at an equestrian sum of moneys, and clear from every 
vice. You, [I am persuaded,] will neither say nor do 
any thing in opposition to Minerva: such is your judg¬ 
ment, such your disposition. But if ever you shall write 
any thing, let it be submitted to the ears of Metius 
[Tarpa], who is a judge, and your father’s, and mine; 
and let it be suppressed till: the ninth year, your papers 
being laid up within your own custody. You will have 
it in your power to blot out what you Wve not made 
public: a word once sent abroad can never return. 

Orpheus, the priest anc[ interpreter of the gods, de¬ 
terred the savage race of men from slaughters and in¬ 
human diet; hence said to tame tigers and furious lions: 
Amphion too, the builder of the Theban wall, was said 
to give the stones motion with the sound of his .lyre, 
and to lead them whithersoever he would, by engaging 
persuasion. This was deemed wisdom of yore, to dis¬ 
tinguish the public from private weal; things sacred 
from things profane; to prohibit a promiscuous com¬ 
merce between the sexes; to give laws to married people; 
to plan out cities; to engrave laws on [tables of] wood. 
Thus honor accrued to divine' poets, and their songs. 
After these, excellent Homer and Tyrtreus animated the 
manly mind to martial achievements with their verses. 
Oracles were delivered in poetry, and the economy of 
life pointed out, and the favor of sovereign princes was 
solicited by Pierian strains, games were instituted, and 
a [cheerful] period put to the tedious labors of the day; 
[this I remind you of,] lest haply you should be ashamed 
of the lyric muse, and Apollo the god of song. 

It has been made a question, whether good poetry be 
derived from nature or from art. For my part, I can 
neither conceive what study can do without a rich 
[natural] vein, nor what rude genius can avail of itself: 
so much does the one require the assistance of the 
other, and so amicably do they conspire [to produce the 
same effect]. He who is industrious to reach the wished- 
for goal, has done and suffered much when a boy; he 
has sweated and.shivered with cold; he has abstained 
from love and wine; he who sings the Pythian strains, 


THE ART OF POETRY 


231 


was first a learner, and in awe of a master. But [in 
poetry] it is now enough for a man to say of himself: 
“I make admirable verses: a murrain seize the hind¬ 
most: it is scandalous for me to be outstripped, and 
fairly to acknowledge that I am ignorant of that which 
I never learned.” 

As a crier who collects the crowd together to buy his 
goods, so a poet rich in land, rich in money put out 
at interest, invites flatterers to come [and praise his 
works] for a reward. But if he be one who is well able 
to set out an elegant table, and give security for a 
poor man, and relieve him when entangled in gloomy 
law-suits; I shall wonder iT with his wealth he can dis¬ 
tinguish a true friend from a false one. You, whether 
you have made, or intend to make, a present to any 
one, do not bring him full of joy directly to your finished 
verses: for then he will cry out, “ Charming, excellent, 
judicious,” he will turn pale; at some parts he will 
even distill the dew from his friendly eyes; he will 
jump about; he will beat the ground [with ecstasy]. 
As those who mourn at funerals for pay, do and say 
more than those that are afflicted from their hearts; so 
the sham admirer is more moved than he that praises 
with sincerity. Certain kings are said to ply with 
frequent bumpers, and by wine make trial of a man 
whom they are sedulous to know, whether he be worthy 
of their friendship or not. Thus, if you compose verses, 
let not the fox’s concealed intention impose upon you. 

If you had recited any thing to Quintilius, he would 
say, “Alter, I pray, this and this:’’ if you replied, 
you could do it no better, having made the experiment 
twice or thrice in vain; he would order you to blot out, 
and once more apply to the anvil your ill-formed verses: 
if you choose rather to defend than correct a fault, he 
spent not a word more nor fruitless labor, but you alone 
might be fond of yourself and your own works, without 
a rival. A good and sensible man will censure spiritless 
verses, he will condemn the rugged, on the incorrect he 
will draw across a black stroke with his pen; he will 
lop off ambitious [and redundant] ornaments; he will 
make him throw light on the parts that are not per¬ 
spicuous; he will arraign what is expressed ambiguously; 


232 


THE ART OF POETRY 


he will mark what should be altered; [in short,] he will 
be an Aristarchus: he will not say, ‘‘Why should 1 give 
my friend offense about mere trifles?“ These trifles 
will lead into mischiefs of serious consequence, when 
once made an object of ridicule, and used in a sinister 
manner. 

Like one whom an odious plague or jaundice, fanatic 
phrensy or lunacy, distresses; those who are wise avoid 
a mad poet, and are afraid to touch him; the boys 
jostle him, and the incautious pursue him. If, like a 
fowler intent upon his game, he should fall into a well 
or a ditch while he belches out his fustian verses and 
roams about, though he should cry out for a long time, 
‘ ‘ Come to my assistance, O my country-men; ’ ’ not one 
would give himself the trouble of taking him up. Were 
any one to take pains to give him aid, and let down 
a rope: “How do you know, but he threw himself in 
hither on purpose?’’ I shall say: and will relate the 
death of the Sicilian poet. Empedocles, while he was 
ambitious of being esteemed an immortal god, in cold 
blood leaped into burning -^Etna. Let poets have the 
privilege and license to die [as they please]. He who 
saves a man against his will, does the same with him 
who kills him [against his will]. Neither is it the flrst 
time that he has behaved in this manner; nor, were 
he to be forced from his purposes, would he now become 
a man, and lay aside his desire of such a famous death. 
Neither does it appear sufficiently, why he makes verses: 
whether he has defiled his father’s ashes, or sacrilegiously 
removed the sad enclosure of the vindictive thunder: it 
is evident that he is mad, and like a bear that has 
burst through the gates closing his den, this unmerciful 
rehearser chases the learned and unlearned. And whom¬ 
soever he seizes, he fastens on and assassinates with 
recitation: a leech that will not quit the skin, till satiated 
with blood. 



If you do not find 
on this list the par¬ 
ticular translation 
which you desire, 
write us and we 
shall secure it for 
you—if it exists. 



TRANSLATION PUBLISHING COMPANY, Inc. 
31 WEST 15th STREET, NEW YORK CITY 







New 


. Translations — Literal: 

If you do not find listed here the particular 
translations wanted — write us. 

-Aeschines Against Ctesiphon . 75 

-Aeschylus Agamemnon . 75 

-Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound & Seven 

Against Thebes . 75 

-Amicis’ The Heart of a Boy (Cuore) .. 75 

— 1 —Aristophanes’ Birds and Frogs. 75 

-Aristophanes’ Clouds . 75 

--Balzac’s Eugenie Grandet . 9° 

-Bazin’s Children of Alsace (Les Oberle) * 5° 

--Caesar’s Civil War . 75 

-Caesar’s Gallic War, the Seven Books.. 75 

--Catullus . 75 

-Cervantes’ Don Quixote — 2 vols..each 9 ° 

--Cicero’s Brutus . 75 

-Cicero’s Defense of Roscius . 75 

-Cicero’s Offices . 75 

-Cicero On Old Age and Friendship.... 75 

-Cicero On Oratory and Orators. 75 

-Cicero On the Nature of the Gods.... 75 

-Cicero’s Select Orations . 75 

—— Cicero’s Select Letters — 2 vols., each 75 

-Cicero’s Letters — Complete, 4 vols., ea. 2 00 

-Cicero’s Tusculan Disputations. 75 

--Corneille’s Le Cid . 75 

-Cornelius Nepos — Complete . 75 

-Daudet’s Tartarin of Tarascon. 75 

--Demosthenes’ Olynthiacs and Philippics 75 

-Demosthenes’ On the Crown . 75 

--Dumas’ The Black Tulip (La Tulipe 

Noire ) 90 

-Euripides’ Alcestis and Electra. 75 

-Bacchantes, Hercules, Furens .. 75 

-Hecuba and Andromache .. • 75 

-Iphigenia, in Aulis, in Tauris . 75 

-— Medea . 75 

—— Eutropius . 75 

-Feuillet’s Rom. of a Poor Young Man 75 

--Frey tag’s The Journalists . 75 

--Galdos’ Dona Perfecta . 1 *° 

-Galdos’ Story of a Spanish Love (Ma- 

rionela') . 1 5® 

--Gerstacker’s Germelhausen . 75 














































New 


Translations — Literal: 

-Goethe’s Egmont .. 75 

-Goethe’s Faust — Part I . 75 

-Goethe’s Faust — Parts I and II. 2 00 

-* Goethe’s Goetz von Berlichingen, Tor¬ 
quato Tasso, Egmont, Iphigenia, Clavigo, 

Wayward Lover, and Fellow Culprits. 2 00 

-Goethe’s Hermann and Dorothea .... 75 

-Goethe’s Iphigenia in Tauris . 75 

-Goethe’s Poems and Ballads . 2 00 

■-Halevy’s Abbe Constantin . 75 

-Hauff’s Lichtenstein . 2 00 

-Hauff’s Tales: The Caravan, Sheik of 

Alexandria and Inn in the Spessart. 2 00 

-Hauptmann’s The Sunken Bell (Die 

versunkene Glocke) . 75 

•-Heine’s Poems . 2 00 

— Heine’s Travel Pictures including Tour 

in the Harz .. 2 00 

■ Herodotus Books VI and VII. 75 

-Herodotus Book VIII . 75 

-Herodotus Books I to IX. 1 00 

-Heyse’s L’Arrabbiata . 75 

-Hillem’s Higher Than the Church .... 75 

-Homer’s Iliad — 6 Books . 75 

-Homer’s Odyssey —12 Books . 75 

-Horace — Complete . 75 

-Hugo’s Hernani, Ruy Bias, etc. 2 00 

— 1 —Hugo’s Les Miserables — Two vols, ea. 9° 

-Juvenal’s Satires — Complete . 75 

-La Brete’s My Uncle and My Cure 

(Mon Oncle et Mon Cure ). 75 

-Le Sage’s Gil Bias. 1 25 

-Lessing’s Emilia Galotti . 75 

-Lessing’s Laokoon . 2 00 

-Lessing’s Minna von Barnhelm. 75 

-Lessing’s Nathan the Wise . 75 

-Lessing’s Miss Sara Simpson, Philotas, 

Emilia Galotti and Nathan the Wise. 2 00 

-Livy — Books 1 and 2 . 75 

— Livy — Books 1 to 20 . 100 

— Livy — Books 21 and 22 . 75 

-Livy — Books 21 to 30 . 1 00 

-Loti's An Iceland Fisherman (Pecheur 

d’Islande) .. 1 2 5 














































New 

Translations — Literal: 

— Lucian’s Select Dialogues — 2 vols., ea 75 

--Lucretius On the Nature of Things.... 2 00 

-Lysias’ Orations . . 75 

-Martial’s Epigrams — Complete a 75 

■ -Moliere’s Dramatic Works — 3 vols. ea. 2 00 

-Ovid’s Metamorphoses — Books 1 to 7 75 

-Ovid’s Metamorphoses — Books 8 to 15 75 

-Ovid’s Fasti, Tristia, Pontic Epistles, 

Ibis and Haliuticon . a 00 

■ -Ovid’s Heroides, Amours, Art of Love, 

Remedy of Love and Minor Pieces. 2 00 

-Phaedrus Fables . 75 

-Pindar’s Extant Odes . 200 

-Plato’s Apology, Crito and Phaedo. 75 

—— Plato’s Gorgias . 75 

-Plato’s Laches (paper cover) . 75 

-Plato’s Protagoras, Euthyphron. 75 

-Plato’s Republic . 75 

-Plato’s Republic, Timeaus and Critias.. a 00 

-Plautus’ Captivi and Mostellaria. 75 

-Plautus’ Comedies, Vol. I — Trinum- 

mus. Miles Gloriosus, Bacchides, Stichus, 

Pseudolus, Menaechmii, Aulularia, Cap¬ 
tivi, Asinaria and Curculio . aoo 

-Plautus’ Comedies, Vol. II — Amphi¬ 
tryon, Rudens, Mercator, Cistellaria, 

Trucullcntus, Persa, Casina, Poenulus, 

Epidicus, Mostelleria and Fragments. a 00 

-Plautus’ Pseudolus, Miles Gloriosus... 75 

-Plautus’ Trimummus and Menaechmi... 75 

—*— Pliny’s Select Letters — Books I to V 75 

-Pliny’s Select Letters — Books VI to X 75 

-Pliny — Letters of Pliny the Younger aoo 

-Quintilian, Books X and XII . 75 

-Quintilian Inst, of Oratory, 2 vols, each 2 00 

-Racine’s Athalie . 75 

-Racine’s Dramatic Works, Vol. I — The 

Thebaid, Alexander the Great, Andro¬ 
mache, The Litigants, Britannicus. 2 °o 

-Racine’s Dramatic Works, Vol. II — Ba- 

jazet, Mithridates, Iphigenia, Phaedra, 

Esther and Athalia . 2 00 

—— Roman Life in Latin Prose and Verse 75 

- ■ Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac... 75 





















New 


Translations — Literal: 

--Rostand’s L’Aiglon . i 5° 

-Rostand’s The Princess Far-away (La 

Princess Lointaine ) . 75 

-Sallust’s Catiline and Jugurthine War.. 75 

-Sallust’s Florus and Velleius Paterculus a oo 

-Scheffel’s Ekkehard . 9° 

-Schiller’s Ballads . 75 

-Schiller’s Don Carlos, Mary Stuart, 

Maid of Orleans and Bride of Messina... 2 oo 

-Schiller’s History of Thirty Years War 3 oo 

-Schiller’s Maid of Orleans . 75 

-Schiller’s Maria Stuart. 75 

—•— Schiller’s Nephew as Uncle . 75 

-Schiller’s Poems . 2 oo 

-Schiller’s Song of the Bell (Das Lied 

von der Glocke ) . 7S 

-Wallenstein’s Death . 75 

--Schiller’s Wallenstein’s Camp, Piccolo- 

mini, and Death of Wallenstein. 2 oo 

-Schiller’s William Tell . 75 

-Seneca on Benefits. 75 

-Sophocles’ Oedipus Tyrannus, Electra 

and Antigone . 75 

-Sophocles’ Oedipus Tyrannus, Oedipus 

Coloneus, Electra, Antigone, Trachiniae, 

Ajax and Philoctetus . 1 00 

--Storm’s Immensee . 75 

-Sudermann’s Dame Care (Fran Sorge) 1 50 

-Suetonius’ Lives of Twelve Caesars... 200 

-Tacitus’ Annals — First Six Books. 75 

-Tacitus’ Germany and Agricola. 75 

-Tacitus’ On Oratory . 75 

-Terence’s Andria Adelphi and Phormio. 75 

—— Terence Heautontimorumenos . 75 

•-Thucydides—Books I to IV. 75 

-Thucydides — Books V to VIII. 75 

-Thucydides’ Peloponnesian War . 1 00 

--Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea 

(Vingt Mille Lieues sous les Mers ). 9 ° 

-Virgil’s Aeneid — First 6 Books. 75 

-Virgil’s Eclogues and Georgies. 75 

-Virgil’s Aeneid— 12 Bks. with Eclogues 

and Georgies . 1 00 

«—— Viri Romae .. 































New 


Translations — Literal: 

-Xenophon’s Anabasis . 

-Xenophon’s Cyropaedia, 2 vols.each 

-Xenophon’s Hellenics . 

-Xenophon’s Memorabilia . 

-Xenophon’s Minor Works . 

——Zschokke The Broken Jar . 

Translations — Interlinear: 

If you do not find listed here the particular 
translation wanted — write us. 

-Caesar’s Gallic War . 

-Cicero On Old Age and Friendship... 

-Cicero’s Orations . 

-Cornelius Nepos . 

-Demosthenes On the Crown. 

-Homer’s Iliad . 

-Horace . 

-Juvenal . 

-Livy, Books 21-22, and Selections from 

Books 1 to 6 . 

-New Test., Gk.-Eng., without notes... 

--New Testament — Greek-English — with 

notes (cloth) . 

-Old Testament — Hebrew-English — 

Vol. I — with notes (cloth) . 

— Ovid’s Metamorphoses — Complete .... 

-Sallust’s Catiline and Jugurthine War.. 

-Tacitus’ Germany and Agricola. 

-Virgil’s Aeneid — First Six Books. 

-Virgil’s Aeneid — Twelve Books. 

-Virgil’s Eclogues, Georgies and Last 

Six Books of Aeneid . 

-Xenophon’s Anabasis . 

-Xenophon’s Memorabilia . 

Translations — Parallel Text Translations. 
These translations, rightfully entitled, the 
Teachers’ Parallel Translations, have been 
prepared to include both the Latin text 
and its English translation, so arranged 
as to show the corresponding relation 
which the one bears to the other. The 
Latin, on the book’s left page, is authentic 
and complete. The combination, by estab¬ 
lishing a definite interpretation for each 
sentence as it is read in the Latin, makes 
translating clear and intelligent. 

-Caesar’s Gallic War — First 4 B**ks... 

-Cicero’s Orations — Against Catiline, 


75 
75 
75 
75 
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75 


2 00 
2 00 
2 00 
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x 50 



























For Archias and the Manilian Law. 

t -Virgil’s Aeneid — First 6 Books. 

Translations — Juxtalinear — paper cover. 

—'— Caesar, War with the Germans. 

-Cicero, Conspiracy of Catiline — Bk. Ill 

--Cicero, Conspiracy of Catiline — Bk. IV 

-Cicero, In Defence of Aulus Licinius 

Archias *.. 

-Cicero, The Pardon of Marcellus. 

-Cicer^, The Manilian Law . 

-Virgil, Aeneid — Book III . 

——Virgil, Aeneid — Book IV. 

The Fully Parsed Classics: 

The purpose of this series is word by word 
to resolve into its grammatical parts each 
sentence of the textbooks generally read 
by classical students so that their trans¬ 
lation into English may be understood in 
every detail. Each book includes in addi¬ 
tion to the original text and its literal 
translation, the parsing of every sentence, 
the defining of every word and the analy¬ 
sis of the structure of every idiomatic 
phrase. 

-Caesar’s Gallic War, Book i. 

-Cicero’s Orations Against Catiline, Bk. i 

-Cicero on Friendship. 

-Horace Odes, Books i and 2. 

-Virgil’s Aeneid, Book 1. 

■ ■ Xenophon’s Anabasis, Book 1. 


New 
1 50 
i 50 

60 

60 

60 

60 

60 

60 

60 

60 


• 00 
2 00 
2 00 
2 00 
2 00 
0 00 




















DICTIONARIES 


Noble’s Large Type Spanish-English — English- 

Spanish Dictionary.$ 4.00 

Twenty-five thousand words selected from the com¬ 
mon vocabulary of both languages, accurately in 
terpreted with a thorough explanation of irregular 
forms, idiomatic phrases, scientific and commercial 
terms, to afford a complete working knowledge of 
word-meanings—together with a key and helpful rules 
for the correct pronunciation of both the Spanish and 
the English words. Over 1200 pages; printed on thin 
paper; sewed oil tape; bound in leather; with durable 
cloth sides. 


STUDENTS’ SERIES OF DICTIONARIES 

Compiled from the best authorities on modern 
languages. Accurate in their definitions, precise in the 
arrangement of their text, sufficient in their detail to 
provide the student with a complete working knowledge 
of the foreign language. These books represent the 
utmost possible in a handy dictionary at a moderate 
price. 

-Spanish-English—English-Spanish Dict’y... $ 1.25 

-French-English—English-French Dict’y. 1.25 

-German-English—English-German Dict’y.. . 1.25 

-Italian-English—English-Italian Dict’y. 1.25 


We can also obtain for you the original texts of any 
of the Translations, also any Dictionary desired. When 
ordering, give the exact title of the text or Dictionary 
wanted, and the name of its Editor and Publisher. 








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